It had been Gabriel who had brought back the tradition of the skulls, a gift from Scintilla. For the few who defied the warning, they were justly dealt with—one of these, in particular, had belonged to a fool of a wolf that took it upon himself to break others. They had fewer now than they had before, but Gabriel believed the message was clear enough. While wolfish shadows crossed him from the bleached bones, he stared at his son and wondered just what it was that had driven him so far north.
The answer, as it was given, was met with a severe frown. He had abandoned his home to find out more about his absentee father. Not only that, but he had abandoned them during a raid. “You should be at home protecting your mother,” he said sternly. Anu was hardly a warrior, and the fact that an aggressive band of wolves was attacking their pack made faint worry build in him. “I don’t mind if you stay, but you cannot join Inferni—and my son will need to allow you further in; he leads this clan now.” A dull warning came with his tone; Ezekiel might not turn the boy away, but the coyote had been restless lately, and his moods were unpredictable. Still, this would give them information on what was occurring in the south; though far beyond their borders, a weakness could be exploited none the less.
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