Smooth talking son of a gun

They had picked up and packed up again, they moved towards where it was warmer and though she resented the fact that after their first move her mother would make them walk away again, she was glad. The north had seemed more prison than home and as much as she hated that her mother had almost literally dragged her back from her self-imposed isolation, but then she had grown hungry and tired and though she would never admit it, it was easier to rely upon the red woman than to run from her.

They had stopped, and her mother spoke of a boy who ran the pack they were now facing. Ravenna nodded, uncertain exactly what to expect, or what was expected of her. The girl lowered herself upon her haunches and waited in silence, though impatiently. She wouldn’t be kept waiting for too long though, as a figure approached and despite herself Ravenna stared. Gaping actually as he jaw suddenly seemed to unhinge from its closed position.