[align=center][font=times new roman][size=11pt]Wolfgate listened intently, knowing that this was probably terrorizing the Shanghai, and ignoring his mate for the first time in his life. He could comfort her later. He dropped his nose to the ground and sniffed, untangling the knots of scent until he established a basic scent map: Fitz, James, himself, Lady Avorio, blood, Rosencrantz, and something else...something different. He walked towards the apprentice-aged high position and sniffed her injury. The scent which clung to the wound was not that of Fitz. He walked back to the snowshoe's body and looked at all four of his paws, each of his claws. None of them bore Rosencrantz's scent. Relief swept him, pure and sweet, and he sagged into a sitting position beside his bronze mate. "She didn't do it."
Posts by Wolfgate.
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