The strong survive [J]

Tonravik was not so sure that caretaking came naturally. Not to all. So, it meant that regardless of the wolfs before her thoughts, he was skilled. "Your uncle," she begins, "He, too, is Tartok?" More often than not, it happened this way nowadays. There were many born into Tartok at this point, as many as were adopted. Blood-and-name alike would bind their family; their brotherhood was an unbreakable one.

She nods to his last sentiment. The strong survive. Her cubs would be strong; they would survive, and just as she, they would thrive. The alpha female was eager for the day her cubs came... though thought of the fact that not all wolves could be care-givers. Of all the wolves who were not the sort, she was on the top of the list. Little things... they could be squashed easily. Too easily. Would that happen? ...Could that happen?

Ah, she would not worry over it. She was insensitive and cruel, and although she believed in nothing, she knew that even the helpless were weeded out by natural selection. The only thing the cubs would not be protected from was herself, and the impatient wrecking ball was the greatest thing of all to fear.