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Alder did not understand the views of the clan, he did not comprehend the bias. Anu had told him, for she had heard the words straight from Gabriel's maw. He had welcomed her, but the others would not. Alder was a creature that respected others, even those that had not earned it completely. His upbringing had taught him to do so, and it was what made the act of trespassing such an offense in his eyes. But he was hardly apathetic now, feeling as if the coyote hybrid before him demanded more then just his departure, which Alder would willing grant him, but the egress of his actual existence. They were all close enough to combine their blood, to share honest values and to love. They were not so different.
Alder had never hurt anyone, and yet he was hated? His mother as well?
He stood grounded, rooted in his place just as the tree he had been named after. His anger was easily subdued as his curiosity about this nature grew. Indeed Alder held that angst he felt towards the male's implication involving his mother. Not a single beast that met her could say she was anything but a pleasant flower, simple and honest that asked so little of the world. But his mind began to wonder rather then burn with ill intent.
The mare was too wild to ride, or so was the conclusion that the Marshal made. She did not tolerate the presence of his own stallion, and it did not look as if she could even tolerate her rider. Though, he could understand why. Hawthorn turned his head towards Alder's, sniffing at his ear and asking to leave the hostile place they had stumbled upon. Where Alder might wish to help the rider, he felt that his advice was not wanted here.
He hesitated, pondering the words he thought to speak. Alder did not lash out often and since he couldn't find that rage he was able to process before he spoke. He did not know what made the other loathe his wolfish blood, but he did not abhor coyotes at the least. I do not hate you, brother. The name was not spoken with affection but with pity, if it had be explained. We only wish to leave, before your mare tosses you. He needed the direction, and blue eyes watched the dark stranger with the hopes that he would give it.
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