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“Wolves prey on the weak. "Take off the hood." "I know what you are," the voice creaked. "Scabs." Rezag's lip curled. It was meant to imply unpleasant old wounds, leftovers from wars, which is what many groups like his were. He liked the term considerably less than 'Wolves.' So did the others. Hands crept to weapons and lips pulled back from teeth. While hackles raised, the old woman retrieved her empty pot, seemingly oblivious to the murder in the air.” — Jim Horlock
Wolves prey on the weak.
"Take off the hood."
"I know what you are," the voice creaked. "Scabs."
Rezag's lip curled. It was meant to imply unpleasant old wounds, leftovers from wars, which is what many groups like his were. He liked the term considerably less than 'Wolves.' So did the others. Hands crept to weapons and lips pulled back from teeth. While hackles raised, the old woman retrieved her empty pot, seemingly oblivious to the murder in the air.