Northstar Vale i'm the pretty prince of parties

Warbone was almost completely placated by the male's submissiveness and eagerness to rectify the situation. He had a soft spot for the impressionable; those that were old enough to handle themselves, yet young enough to mold still as he desired. The male felt inclined to accept the offer of a redo, but none of the other five had come forward, and still, there was an unsettled vibe coming from his flank. He knew without looking that it was Tryphon continuing to linger without any positivity towards the new potential. He had learned rather quickly -- through the gold and sterling wolf's preferred silence -- to read his body language or feel the air for what things went unsaid between them.

Typically he cared for little, if at all, for the opinion of others. He would accept this male whether anyone liked it or not, and his opinion would become law. But Warbone was getting sick of his own arrogance even, and he felt closer to the wolves of the vale than he had in any where else besides his birthplace. In an uncharacteristic attempt to show that he valued and trusted the opinion of those closest to him, he said: "my companion here, will decide your fate." And he stepped back, proverbially handing Tryphon the reins.