Trading had always been a complex, two-faced affair. She could provide honestly to one but not the other, or deceive them both. This was why the blonde girl leaned on her elder leader’s experience, though her mine was quick to dissect and work out the pros and cons of each decision. To her, the simplest answer was the preferred. This challenge brought a thin smile to her face, as if finding the idea funny—and in her own way she did, though her amusement was more towards the idea of Sirius contending with this woman as opposed to the golden coyote.
“Not all places value the same things,” she explained, and then shrugged and showed the palms of her hands. They were dark and hardened, bearing no scars, though under her crème fur there were bruises and blemishes a plenty. “If our pact is made with two, then those two would be shown together. It would come down to which of you valued the goods more. Some things we might limit our gratitude towards; not all wolves are capable of producing items of value.” Her use of wolf was not intended to suggest that she thought Anathema (or any pack) lesser than the clan, but Salvia was wise enough not to suggest that the coyotes might make inferior goods.