Heather recognized the coyote by her black belly instantly. Geesh, it’s creepy girl. Why doesn’t Canis get a turn with her more often? It’s not fair.
Lamar took a few dramatically high steps into the camp and gave just about every dog his unnaturally wide grin -though you had to be thankful that he never flashed any teeth in it- “Hey, ‘Lupus,’” he said, tilting his head in what would be an inviting way if it wasn’t so jerky and robotic. His voice imitated Asio’s as it jumped from a tenor to something much more alto-ish. “Don’t mind me asking, but you have something we want.” The ambery gave of death flashed suddenly from his pleasant face.
Juice trembled in fear, but Heather simply rolled her eyes. Those coyotes really needed to ease on the dramatics if they wanted to convince anyone they were holy or something. She was beginning to regret bringing out her pups and stood in the way of Storm and Tar.
Of course, Smew’s innocent eyes were exposed, and she was definitely convinced the coyotes were something holy. “Oh look, it’s the coyotes! Aren’t they nice?”
Heather began to wonder if what she had been originally passing off, rewarding, even as cute puppy behavior was actually just stupidity waiting to emerge as a fixed personality trait.
She gasped and covered Smew’s eyes and dragged her behind her body, because every mother knew that evil spread optically.