Whitestone Monadnock if i was a rich girl

Of course Lorcan wasn't going to take Al's comments lying down, and when he had reached out for the boy Sahalie internally panicked, closed her eyes, and prayed that Al would just shut up and roll over. Lorcan wasn't trying to hurt him—in spite of all the snarling—he just wanted to dominate him, assert his rank, regain the upper-hand that he had never really lost but Alastor had challenged. These sorts of things did not really happen at Oak Tree Bend. But Sahalie knew it could happen, knew that it did. She just hoped Alastor knew it too, knew what a dangerous situation he was in, and knew that this whole thing wasn't worth fighting over. Lorcan would believe them eventually, now or later he would see that they were harmless. No one was going to be kicked out.

It appeared, at least, that he would need no further convincing as he released Alastor and let his aggression fade a little. The straw spun fur that Sahalie had found so handsome was flatter now, and suddenly realized just how much smaller he was than her massive silver friend. Hostility sure could enlarge a wolf.

"Yes, Lorcan," she chirped diligently. No more trouble from her.

Behind her Alastor swore. He was already walking away. She would have followed him if she were not glued into place by her anxiety.

When at last she was alone, she sighed.