What was he thinking?
He was smallish in stature, despite being an adult, and despite training through his early seasons, he did not exactly have the makings of being a warrior, like his parents and siblings. His saving grace would have to be the swiftness of his paws and the sharpness of his mind, which he had so far had to rely on. But did he dare think he could outwit Moghedien? He had his doubts and his fears, but he also had a want to help Gabrielle, who was quite different when he compared her to the other wolves he had known throughout his short life. These thoughts were racing through his head as he dared approach her quarters on slender paws. He knew what he had to say, he knew that he had to cast suspicion on the wolf he wished to help, but what if he stumbled over his words, or she knew he spoke softly. There was no room for error, though to err was wolf, and he was mindful of this as he stood back respectfully, head dipped submissively as he waited for any sort of acknowledgement. He had never spoken to either she or Chernabog, so how could he be sure he would even be addressed?
Well, here goes nothing...
