quite eradicated
The pale coyote (and Ezekiel was certain now he was albino, seeing his pink skin) spoke of Tedros, and of his interest in the clan. This intrigued Ezekiel. He had never been much for seeking recruitments himself, having found many often stumbled upon the clan eventually, and wondered if Tedros’ methods were different. Still, this did not seem likely—Matteo, as he called himself, smelled not simple of one pack but of two. The secondary scent was fast-fading, but it lingered yet. It was a damp, musty thing that he recognized quickly.
“Ezekiel de le Poer,” he replied, amber eyes sharp and hawkish. “I’d imagined whatever good things you heard about us certainly didn’t come from Anathema.” The name, and overall tone of their neighbor did not fall on deaf ears. He smiled in a way that did not meet his eyes and continued to speak, well-aware of how he was behaving. It was almost cruel, but he had learned quickly how to façade cruelty with fake smiles like the one he wore. At this point, one would hardly doubt it was real. “But you smell like AniWaya now, eh? I guess their war got sorted out.” Another grab in the dark. He knew about the madness that had come to the south, but not much beyond this.
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