Ayastigi—the Cherokee word was understandably foreign on his tongue as he mouthed it, but he supposed it only made sense. Skoll looked warm at the other’s good-natured expression, but when it changed and Anatole stated that there were no warriors anymore, he frowned again. “Why not?” he asked, and suddenly hunched his shoulders and answered his own question with a timid: “Oh.” Trying to save face, he added: “Well, maybe you’ll get them back soon. It’s important to have warriors to protect the pack.”
The last statement was given with the weight of experience, and there was a small glimpse into the turn the boy’s life had taken since he’d been a carefree puppy picking a fight with big cats. He lowered his head momentarily, his chin touching his legs, and the fur spiked there as he looked up at the older wolf again.
“But even without Ayastigi, AniWaya’s got wolves like you, right?” Skoll asked, grinning. “You can fight at least bobcats, can’t you?”
my name is raze, and i suck.
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