“After what’s happened?” He laughed. “Define odd.” He shook his head. “No—not really. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe he’s what they call a ‘rogue male’—an apex predator in search of his own clan; or a clan to take over. Or maybe when this, this Flashback, as you called it, occurred, he was whisked away from his pack and found himself here, in the middle of the Palouse. The, ah, breadbasket of Washington State.” He stood abruptly and began pacing the deck. “What the hell would I know, anyway. I’m a shoe salesman with a yapping mouth.”
“Yeah, well.” She stood and moved toward the kitchen. “Maybe a yapping mouth isn’t such a bad thing—in a world without people.” She turned and gave him an almost flirty smile—which he knew not to read into—then raised her empty cup. “More coffee?”
“Sure,” he sa
