Rurik was normally an extremely patient man, and this was no different today—however, a conflict arose within him as the she-wolf nodded and continued on her way. She seemed upset in some way; she had hardly spoken since his arrival. The last thing Rurik wished to do was to upset her further, yet he knew he had an obligation to this Cour des Miracles. He owed it to his packmates and his children to provide protection, and so he stepped up quickly, trying to head around her. “Hold on just one meeneet,” the werewolf said, disapproving. “You must vait—Veegee vill be here eef I call heem, or mebbe Ruree. Zhey are leaders, zhey tell you eef you stay,” he insisted. The silver-shaded werewolf did not waste a moment before tilting his head to the sky and howling for one of the leaders, a little more insistent than usual. Rurik was nowhere near the top of the tier in this pack. Decisions were not his to make, and Rurik rather liked it that way.
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