I have so much more t'teach ye." He chuckled, kissing her fully on the mouth, holding her little body in his arms."More?" Her eyes lit up."Aye, much, much more," he agreed, eyes alight. "Come wit' me, lass. Let's get cleaned up so we can get dirty again.

I had 'em set a table for ye in 'ere," he explained, nodding at the dishes. "Thought ye might like some stew.""No, thank you." Her stomach growled audibly and he arched his eyebrows again, a gesture that Sibyl found infuriating. Almost as infuriating as being called "skinny." And "lass.""This jus' rabbit." He smiled like he could read her mind, going over to the fire and using a long, thick pole with hooked end to lift a black iron pot. "We don't eat humans, Sibyl.

And ye were promised t'Alistair?" The man took his seat again, leaning back and crossing his arms as he studied her, "Laird of clan MacFalon?""Yes, but..." She swallowed a bite of stew, meeting those blue eyes across the table. He missed nothing, this man. "I didn't want to marry him.""That explains why ye put an arrow in 'im?

King Henry wants lands an'titles, like all the English.""What do Scots want?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Darrow was far more sure footed than she was."A good woman, a warm bed, and food in their bellies." He grinned at her and she couldn't help but laugh.

Where are you going?" she called after him."Dinner!" he yelled back, not turning. "I best eat somethin' afore I decide t'devour ye instead!

We are what we are. That's what Raife said and it was true. They simply were. Animals were animals, humans were humans and wulvers were... wulvers. They were all God's creatures.