don't ever apologize for anything

[Jantus]

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┤Alright. It was fun!├ Jantus's own growling petered off as the stranger from Inferni turned and fled. It was best, he supposed. No point in getting involved in the unusual status quo of the territory...as long as Trigger hadn't been seriously hurt, he didn't figure any harm had been done. Looking down, he noticed that the snarling animal beneath him was starting to lose some of its energy. After a few seconds, he realized that it was probably due to lack of air. "Whoops!" he exclaimed, lifting his knee and lifting the youth back up by his nape. He'd been bloodied a bit on his sides, and there was a nasty gash on the top of his head, but he still had both ears...it seemed like he'd come in before the Infernian had decided he wanted things to get nasty. For the best, especially because he knew that he'd then not only be responsible (not something he wanted on his conscience), but also that he'd need to bring his Pine wolves up here to answer Inferni in kind, and somehow he doubted that Skoll would have wanted an army of fifty Pine wolves upsetting the fretful balance of Souls, disheartening as that balance sometimes was. "Sorry kiddo, didn't mean to crush you, but it looks like maybe that did the job." The black and yellow hybrid had come back to himself a little: it seemed that even someone in a berserk state of mind had to face their inability to act eventually...boundless fury meant very little when your body couldn't move. He was sniffling now, taking great intakes of breath and was clearly shaken up by the whole affair. Like last time, it had scared him: Jantus had heard from Skoll about berserking, how it was in his blood. The gold warrior had learned to control when and if he entered it, but that control was hard to earn, and difficult to maintain. The alpha had no doubt that his son--who had been, arguably, unfortunate to inherit the trait--would continue to be frightened at the loss of self-control until he had entered it a few more times, and became comfortable with it as his father had. If Skoll and Asphyxia had their wish, however, he would never lead a life where that was necessary. Even if it meant occasional upset, he hoped their wish came true. "I...I could have... Trigger tried to work some bluster into his situation, but Jantus would wait for it. He didn't want to be around if that lone belligerent decided to call up his friends. No doubt, if he did decide to return for a second round, he'd be bringing a lot of clan mates if he wanted to be sure of their deaths, and he didn't plan to receive a counter-attack like that without the rest of his people at his side, and hopefully the extended protection of Phoenix Valley, though he had no doubt that if they had to warn Inferni away from their borders, Skoll's funeral party would be ordered to leave the premises immediately. "Save it," he said, cutting across Trigger's mumbled bluff. "We'll get Mala to fix you up when we get back, and then you can think about how to explain what you were doing so far out here by yourself, how the fight got started, and how you wouldn't have gotten yourself killed if I hadn't shown up." He wanted to comfort the boy, and to even congratulate him: this had been his first real fight, and that was a serious milestone for a youth in Snow-capped Pine. Nonetheless, he had almost gotten killed over what probably amounted to nothing, and Jantus wouldn't be over that soon. The others in the Pine would give him plenty of positive reinforcement anyway, so for now they could deal with the punitive side of the affair. He saw that the boy's flank had been hurt during the fight, and so he lifted him up and set him on his shoulders. Not a comfortable method of travel, but the weight was nothing to him, and they began heading back.

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