The sepia toned coyote, with those peculiar blue eyes, seemed to understand what the meaning was behind Gabriel’s suggestion. Hezekiah was smart, and because he was so young, he would be a fast learner. He would adapt and thrive, or he would whither and fall to the wayside. There were only so many options for those who ran under Inferni’s colors.
Gabriel’s eyes, dark as they were, focused hawk-like on the boy. “Inferni is not without enemies,” he warned, and the warning was not in vain. How many had they lost? Far too many. “Information keeps us alive. It keeps us one step ahead of them.” It was always us versus them, and always had been. Despite the fact it was obvious Gabriel was no coyote (here, next to the boy, he was a hulking brute) he wore his mother’s crest and battle scars with pride. He was no wolf either. “Do you understand?”
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