Chapter 8

I recognized the one behind the stall as Placis, a wolf whom I liked. Placis’s shaved head was still an artwork of purple and blue colored streaks; it had been that way since the day Tando had left the Pack. At any other time I would have stopped, as I often did, to admire the artistic identity painted there for all to see.

All of the noises ceased as I stepped forward. Two sets of features swung in my direction; two pairs of eyes widened. Placis’s quickly dropped to the ground while Courtning looked to the side, clearly still angry over whatever all had happened.

I stopped right beside the food stall and folded my arms, looking from one face to the other, until both sets of eyes met the ground and then climbed their way back to my own, looking slightly more ashamed of themselves. I thought about softening my own looks, but decided that now was not the time. A shouting