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255 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 7, 2019



A scuffle of noise at the edge of the waterfall catches my eye. A black nose peeks out, followed by the most wild-haired weasel ever. Its hairs are long and stiff and wave out in all directions. It is even slower than the last one. I could catch that thing. I look at Father. He is not crouching to stalk it. He is looking at me.
“Is it delicious?” I nose-point to the weasel.
“Probably.”
The thing goes to a pine tree and nibbles at the bark. The stiff thick hairs are silver-gray at the tips and black at the base.
“Is it poisonous?”
“No.” He wags—just a little.
I make a little yip in case it hasn’t smelled us watching so nearby. It turns and doesn’t back away. Badgers and wolverines are not big, but Mother has warned us about them.
“Does that thing hunt us?”
“Nothing hunts a grown wolf but men.”
“He is so small. Why is he not afraid?”
“The porcupine fears no one and fights no one.”
“But I could get him in one pounce. He is so slow.”
“Anyone who tangles with a porcupine bows to him forever after.”
No way am I bowing to that thing. I watch it slowly and clumsily climbing the pine tree. There is nothing sleek or strong or shrewd about it. I will get Sharp to tangle with it. Then I will know, and Sharp will have to do the bowing.

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