"And what are you going to kill?" he asked, ignoring her comments about his fur. She hadn't been the least bit impressed that he could change shape. He'd expected at least some kind of appreciation for his skills. That was rather disappointing.
And because she'd disappointed him, and because he could tell she would like him to put on some clothing, Coyote refused to give in to what she wished. It was small and petty, but it made him feel better to deny her that. Even if she was right, and certain things were colder than he'd prefer.
"Something smallish for you," he mused, "like a robin or a chipmunk since you are so scrawny yourself. Unless you mean to share with me. Then we should definitely get a turkey." Coyote grinned. "I think you will like them. I know I do."