The man was terribly loyal, proving that family meant everything and more to him, the few friendships he’d had hadn’t even been enough to shatter his blind sense of loyalty. All he knew was that he belonged here and he would cling to that belief until the end of his days and until whatever end. He was not one to lead, or to question those that led him. Perhaps this was the very reason he’d never suspected his father’s treachery, even moments before his claws came down on the side of his face. Those wounds still lingered, although healed, they would remain a reminder now and forever. The lesson was a hard one to learn, and perhaps it would take another fall for him to realize his mistakes, but not today. He continued to address the female with prejudice, scoffing openly at her words of friendship. “And if I were to come poking around Inferni’s borders? What sort of welcome would I get, I wonder?” He didn’t wait for an answer and quickly shook his head.
Her voice changed and he puffed up, content with the fact that she seemed to be stepping down. Then she said something he didn’t quite understand. “Cooked?” He curiosity couldn’t help but present itself. He tossed his head and growled, reprimanding himself. This was not the time for useless questions, perhaps one of his brothers and sisters could enlighten him better later. “I call it duty, as you do, for that it one of mine.” An ear twitched, but he paid it no heed. He found he had little else to say on that topic, if she was so openly defiant he found no more inclination to waste any breath.
She did something strange then, approaching him. His body completely stiffened and his eyes followed her every movement. She came even closer and he showed teeth, lowering his upper body in preparation to defend himself and his pack. Instead of attacking she got down and rolled onto her back, belly exposed to him. The world seemed to come to a stop around him and his brows furrowed, the anger and rage in his face lessening to an extent. His teeth retreated past his lips and he gazed in disbelief. She had a curious scar on the inner side of one of her back legs, and he glanced at it incomprehensive. He was a simple creature, and it looked nothing more than a strangely shaped wound. He paid it little and less attention. Her words had his black rimmed ears perking.
Her voice was quieter, no longer defiant, and she seemed to be sincere. He didn’t know what to do next, or how to react. “That‘s how things are.” He said quietly, still unwilling to agree that they had any reason to become allies. It had been passed on from generation to generation, brought on by the struggles and hardships of life, and would take a while to forget. And then the mention of war came. No, he did not want to ever have to see his brothers and sisters strewn about a plain of red, and watch them as they struggled battered and broken. He thought of Blind, and he had to bite his lip to clear the image of her bi-colored eyes open and staring blankly, and Ciara her young and broken body splayed out upon the ground. No, he never wanted it to come to that. Although he could not bring himself to agree with the hybrid’s intentions he could see the truth in her words. “No, I don’t.” He muttered, nearly inaudibly
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