“That short, squealy one wanted me to go down to the commons and talk to Killian.” “Mari’s—” Well, she’s hopelessly naïve, but that seems cruel to say. “Mari’s a good egg.” “Egg.” Abertha snorts. “You’re on the internet too much. You’re starting to talk like a human.” I shrug. I don’t mind humans. They’re easier to deal with than shifters. “You can’t live with them, you know,” Abertha says. My gaze flies up. She sees too much. “I know.” “You’d end up hurting one. Your wolf will never understand that they’re not prey.” “My wolf listens to me.” “Was she listening to you just now in the thicket?
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