[He tips his cup back once more and the wine blazes its sweet trail down his throat. He then matches Graham's wryness in his own speech; his eyes slide to Brother's sleek-furred back and return to his companion across the table.]

And you who as a boy lived among wolves in the vasty wilds, did you never run barefoot when on the hunt with your fanged kin? Still it seems most natural to me to feel the earth beneath my feet as I beat my path across field, hill, and shore.

[So he had been as a boy, and so he remains now.]