Her mates didn't understand what a tradebooth was, but the next morning, they understood.
The center of the Iron-Wood Village, a clearing that was usually left for meetings, with tiny logs around for seating.
It was first reserved for the Alpha's announcements or the distribution of hunt spoils. Today, however, it looked like a carnival stall had landed in the snow.
"A little to the left, Drax," Roxy instructed, pointing a gloved finger. "We want the sun to hit the gold just right. Presentation is everything."
Drax, bundled up in a miniature fur coat that made him look like a very serious bear cub, grunted as he shoved a heavy wooden crate. "Left," he muttered, his tongue poking out in concentration. "Shiny goes here."
"Good job, buddy," Kaelen praised, lifting a heavy wooden sign onto the posts they had erected. The sign, painted by Syris in elegant script, read: MONEY EXCHANGE.
It was in beastworld language so everyone could understand.
