"It's not—" Silo stopped. "It's not whatever you're thinking."
"I'm not thinking anything," Ziko said.
"You're thinking something."
"I'm thinking that you made a plate of food at four in the morning for a stranger you've known for fifteen minutes and your wolf hasn't been that loud since before I knew you." Ziko picked his cup back up, looking determinedly at the wall rather than at Silo. "I'm not thinking anything else. That's just what I'm thinking."
Silo picked up the plate.
"Go check on Ryke," he said.
"Ryke is orange on the chart," Ziko said. "Orange doesn't need checking."
"Then go do something else."
"I'm drinking my tea."
"Do it somewhere else."
Ziko stood. Picked up his cup. Moved toward the door with the unhurried quality of a man who was not going to push this any furt
