"Do they like that?" Tamara asked, peering over from where she was flopped on the other bed in the room, small wolf-puppy in her lap. The latter was most definitely not wearing any clothes.
"They love it," Angela said, putting the brush- yes, brush- down in order to grab a little bonnet from the floor. "They like it when they're pretty. You should dress up your dog."
"I don't know," Tamara said dubiously. "I don't think I have anything that will fit him." For some reason insisting that he wasn't a dog didn't seem to matter as much to Tamara as it did Firekeeper.
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