“I could hear him laughing. Son of a bit*h. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was coyote or the son of Satan.He was a dead man walking.”

“Son of a bitch. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was Coyote or the son of Satan. He was a dead man walking.”

“Wolves eat coyotes," Gordon said[...] If he weren't an old man, I had some rude things I could have said to that."Yes," observed Adam blandly. "I do." Yep. That was the one that came to mind. And he didn't even blush when he said it. Maybe Gordon would miss the double entendre. But he grinned cheerfully at Adam.”

“It was Adam, but he was too late. He couldn’t love me anymore. He would be so angry with me. I had to hide. He didn’t love me so he might hurt me when he was angry. When he calmed down, that would hurt him. I didn’t want him hurting because of me. There was nowhere for a person to hide. So I wouldn’t be a person. My eyes fell on the shelves that lined the far back corner. A coyote could hide there.”

“My foster mother always laughed and said it was his reputation for knowing everything that allowed for him to appear infallible: all he had to do was walk through the room and see who looked guiltiest when they saw him. Maybe she was right, but I tried looking innocent the next time, and it didn't work.”

“Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.”

“He knows about sacrificing himself for the good of the whole.That's what soldiers do.It's not the torture he can't forgive me for. Nor deceiving him about his people. It's because I put you in harm's way he is so angry" Then she said, very calmly, "If I could kill you, I would" - Mrsilia”