but the lady mayfair moved far more swiftly, her challenging rumble seeming to shake lestan, to tremble in the very sky. lestan's own instinct veered against the dirt left behind by his mate's paws, a spray as he snapped in the air after the wheeling bird.
then, moments reclaiming themselves; skin hot and all commontongue driven right out of his mouth, he trotted forward on shaking legs and lay beside the den. he would not enter, not while the sun was high enough to see any errant preybirds soaring in shadow.
a bheil thu ceart gu leòr, a kirain?he panted, eyes moving between shelter and the not-so-inviting fall of sun pouring into the grass.
agus a faolán, a bheil thusa ceart gu leòr cuideachd?
lestan shut his eyes, leaned back his head. his heart raced, and he was a bit helplessly angry, though at no one in particular.

