Bearclaw Valley djinn

"you say that as if we have the luxury of being the only predators who hunt fawns," he growled, barely keeping tabs on the sound of his annoyance. "you are wasting resources dictating the preservation of a single, undesirable and making it easier for our competition in the process." that was the damn problem with these young wolves, too worried about how things looked and not how they worked -- though, in part, his resentment towards young leaders seemed to stem from being usurped by a male her age.

but in truth it was his experience that made him biased, and in stigmata's time, young wolves had the vigor, but not the foresight, to lead a pack. he thought it took at least three winters and a fourth summer to truly understand all the compartments of leadership, and it drove him mad to be directed by the youth; especially in a way he deemed illogical. the poor, opinionated peon. he stopped thinking of all this suddenly when they had come to a break in the trees that heralded the  gentle lip of a small bowl in the valley -- a wide open space where a thin herd of deer grazed and milled about watchfully.