Word Count → Cruddy and short; not that I care
Slade was determined not to let the mood die at Valinta's reply to "you died," but fortunately she saved him from having to try to start a conversation--something he had always been absolutely terrible at, no matter who he was talking to. In fact, she made his eyes widen in curiosity when she mentioned her pack. Oh, so she wasn't a member of Cercatori anymore? He suppressed a small sigh of annoyance. Usually his lack of information didn't bother him much, but in cases like this, he was ridiculously annoyed. Maybe nobody else knew that he and Valinta had met, but still, it would have been nice to hear about it. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Cercatori d'Arte was still his home, but he shoved the thought aside.
"Your pack?" he asked, tilting his head. The coyote's tone wasn't challenging, simply inquisitive. Was there another pack who laid claim to the lands? Was he trespassing? He briefly wondered if territory had already been established, but he would have been able to tell that from scent... right?
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