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Snow was crusting her hair; impatiently she swept it away. She believed him and he was giving her a new angle on what she'd previously thought a pack of wild, savage and reasonless beasts. But she still didn't approve somehow, for that vicious child had come from his home, and to protect and nurture such creatures was almost as bad as committing their crimes yourself, in her opinion. She wasn't sure she had the vocabulary to say what she meant. It came out as more of a babble, and the phrasing seemed to sound more petulant than she meant it to, but she did not bite back her words. "Your pack is who you are. Isn't it? What if your leaders ordered you to do something you did not believe in? What if I told you that one of your clan has already tried to kill me?" A hard habit to break, the string of questions that had proved so useful as a puppy learning about an endlessly complex world.
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