Wanna bet?He wasn't in the least bit concerned with the growling of his older brother; to him, he was no leader. Andre had no leaders. He was a wayward maniac in the midst of a clan, but he held no respect for any of them, sans perhaps Hybrid. Still, he did not trust anybody, and likely never would; the world would become his plaything, and he would string them all from the stars of a hell they had never known. His lips tugged back into a wicked little smile, and the boy's bright yellow gaze shifted from the hybrid, though only momentarily, to drift across the snow-dusted sand beneath them.
You can't stop me,
he continued, voice eerily quiet now, unless you bring those filthy dogs out there down on me.
That was really the truth; by the time Andrezej grew up, he would have no soul and no conscience with which to consider outright attacking anybody that came his way. Removal from the clan would not perturb him so much as it would fuel his desire to crush them, and while he was yet young, he was breeding within him the sickest little creature he could imagine. One day, it would inhabit his body and shove any and all feeling from him.
In which case you would simply seal your fate.
He didn't doubt he could kill the wolves, too. His high thoughts of himself may only have been due to his growing madness and desire to see them all destroyed, but it was very possible that such confidence would become his greatest weapon.