She looked back down the corridor instinctively, as if she could see through walls to where he was staying.
“That explains it,” she murmured.
“Explains what?”
“The way he kept observing everyone,” she said. “Like he was learning how to behave.”
That hit closer than I expected.
“He does that,” I admitted. “He measures before he speaks.”
“He seemed careful.”
“He is.”
There was another pause. Then she sighed.
“Has he always been like this?” she asked.
I didn’t answer that directly.
“As long as I’ve known him,” I said instead.
She accepted the response, though I could tell she wasn’t satisfied with it. At least she was polite enough not to push.
“And you’re certain his wolf is still there?”
“Yes. Like I said, I’ve felt it,” I said. “Not constantly. But enough.”
I didn’t elaborat
