“Crete Gyrfalcon Redleaf-DiSarinno,” Crete could feel his ears slick flat against his skull as Tyrannus loomed like a scarred shadow over him, forcing the confused mute into submission, his teeth bared and lashing at the mute’s scruff when he had not sank down - thinking the situation unfolding before him rapidly and wildly out of control was a prank - “you are hereby and for every day to come exiled from Flightless Falcons.” The timbers of Tyrannus’ voice sounded to be made of steel, harsh and violent as Crete felt the words vibrate through his elder brother’s throat. Crete shuddered violently in his sleep, remembering the panic and disorientation that followed, as he desperately tried to place where he had done something to deserve exile. He was loyal - loyal to his parents, and had accepted Tyrannus’ claim to the throne when Aether had passed away and March Owl had stepped down. If anyone had came to his defense - Crete could not remember, instead glimpsing a sea of faces, hisses of whispers - words that had lost their meaning in the deafening pounding of his heart, and the ocean wave of fear that had collided and washed over him. Exiled. Where was he going to go? What pack would take a mute? How was he even supposed to attempt to join a pack when he couldn’t communicate with words?
Crete awoke with a startled gasp of breath, sucking greedily at the stinging, chilly morning air, his heart pounding against it’s prison of sinew and bone. Fur ruffled along his nape, as he looked around, disoriented by the abruptness in which he had awoken and stood up, jumping to his feet, expecting to see Tyrannus standing over him, threatening him. The pain that spread like fire and ice in his heart, nearly winded him, as he took another deep breath in attempts to calm himself. It was still a painful and hard thing for Crete to grasp. Betrayed by his own brother, for crimes that he knew not. It was hard to ask Tyrannus what he was being accused off and exiled for when he had no voice to raise in protest, and in a direct fight the seasoned brother would take him - all hands down. He was a like mortal Ares (never mind that Athena always trumped Ares). It plagued Crete’s slumber, and though he chose not too consciously dwell upon the festering and fresh unseen wound, it left him with irritating mood swings, general mistrust, and an aching need for solitude most days that if not given would lead to, in some cases, aggression; of which was nearly unheard of in the quintessentially benevolent mute.
Peregrine had traveled in the direction Crete had taken, or at least he had went in a similar direction. Crete had tried to catch up to Peregrine numerous times, despite that his littermate was maybe a week ahead of him, but all attempts had been futile, and during the rare occurrences that Crete had picked up Perry’s scent - it was faint and all but non existent. It was encouragement that he was at least, on the right path. Crete stretched, sea green eyes taking in the landscape around him with musing intrigue, lifting his muzzle to the air ever so slightly to inhale the crisp scents. He was getting close to a pack’s borders, and felt internally torn. He needed to find a pack to stick with at least through the winter - though he needed a new home with permanence period - and his disability would make it measurably complicated. It was not an ordeal he was particularly looking forward too, but if he didn’t there was no guarantee he would survive the harsh winter. He could give it his best shot and that would have to be sufficient enough.
Steeling himself, he began to pad in the direction of the pack’s borders, stopping when he was the respectful distance from the scent markers and himself. Crete stood there, awkwardly, for a few moments not sure he how he was going to attract attention himself. A soft sigh pushed from his lungs and lips, as he settled back upon his haunches, figuring he would just wait until someone came through patrolling the borders.
When a familiar scent hit his nose during an idle patrol, it nonetheless elicited a reaction as if a rock had struck Peregrine upside the head. He stopped, his swarthy head rearing and his nostrils flaring. Incredulity crept over his face and he snorted, shaking his head as if to divest the scent from his olfactory tissues. When it persisted, his eyes shifted and he stared questioningly into the woods, his brow knitting. He hardly dared believe it, yet all the same, Peregrine began to lope toward the origin of the smell.
There was no mistaking him when Peregrine reached the tree line and gazed over the plateau's edge, his blue-green eyes finding his brother's familiar silhouette down below. Unaware that he was holding his breath, the Sigma plunged down the towpath that led to the borders and approached Crete, stopping just short of his brother and staring at him in disbelief. After a beat, he stretched out his neck and sniffed noses with his litter mate and, with that, his breath finally burst out of him in a ragged gasp.
"You? He exiled you?" he practically shouted, his eyes rolling wildly as he growled deeply. "God, he really is a fuckstick, isn't he, if he's threatened by the resident mute." Sharply, Peregrine's eyes met Crete's and his lip curled. "Sorry, Crete." Although he wasn't as close to Crete as he was to Osprey and he sometimes found the mute to be an annoyance, Peregrine naturally loved his brother. "It's just absolutely fucking ludicrous."
Peregrine's mouth fell into a grim line and he appeared thoughtful for several moments, his eyes absently regarding his litter mate. He knew that Crete would need a home and not just anyplace would do; he needed to live somewhere where he could be understood. Although Peregrine somewhat resented finding himself subjected to this role, he wasn't about to turn away his litter mate. They needed one another. Peregrine would have a piece of Flightless Falcons here with him.
"Stay here," he implored, though it wasn't so much a question as a command. Then his ears pricked and he inquired rather fiercely, "How's Osprey?" He assumed his sister was still there, since Tyrannus would not feel nearly as threatened by his female kin, despite March Owl's powerful legacy.
Crete had never before let his disability stop him from striving for his independence, though, admittedly, his designs of independence and the designs of his siblings and other family members, tended to be starkly different. In a way, he quietly envied his siblings as they shrieked with laughter and yelled childish curses at one another, and tattled on the other for cursing, when all he could do was grin goofily at them. No matter times how he tried to talk, tried to make the appropriate sounds to form words nothing would come out. He had ingested numerous plants and herbs in Aether’s kind attempts to help but it was not something herbs or medicines were going to fix. It was probably that his vocal cords didn’t properly form, or full form or something to that effect. Until now, it had never been big of a deal. A sibling - not always from his litter, older siblings would volunteer to assist - ignoring his icy glares of protest, would often accompany him, to “speak” for him. Some of his siblings were better at ‘translating’ than others, admittedly. Guard hairs bristled in slight irritation at the thought but not wishing to suffer an incorrigible mood swing - especially when someone did stumble upon him at their borders, he didn’t need to be in an insufferable mood. That, Crete had no doubt, would not serve to help him any, and this would be hard enough as it was.
A inky smudge came rushing in his direction, causing Crete to push himself to his paws in a quick, fluid movement, ready to defend himself if need be. However, the wolf, though easily recognizable when he was in Crete’s face so directly - though the mute had recoiled back - it was the scent that filled Crete’s nostrils that confirmed that he wasn’t seeing a phantom. ‘Peregrine?’ Puzzlement dominated Crete’s facial features, before relief washed over him, and tense stance relaxed with a heavy sigh. ‘Peregrine.’ It really was his brother - whom, like Crete, had suffered Tyrannus’ strange and worrying tyranny. Crete recoiled again, ears slicking back when Peregrine proceeded to nearly shout in his face, a sign that Crete took to be outrage at Tyrannus. Feeling a brief pinprick of insult, Crete’s lips pulled back to expose his teeth at the displeasure of the word ‘mute’ and in the way that Peregrine enunciated it - even though Crete inherently agreed with his crass brother. He, a mute, could never hold leadership, so what was there to be even measurably threatened of? ‘I agree,’ Crete’s facial features smoothed out into a stony, morbid expression of agreement, as he nodded his head once and rolled his eyes, ears lifting to rest half mast atop his head. ‘Clearly Tyrannus has gone off the deep end.’ So how was it that no one else could see it?
Or was it, simply, that they did not wish to see it?
Figuring it was safe, Crete stepped forward and offered a lick of greeting to his brother’s chin, before he stepped back, letting his tail wag once. Despite that their situations royally sucked Crete was infinitely glad that Peregrine and him had managed to find one another. Peregrine’s command was heard, and acknowledged with a sarcastically skeptic twitch of Crete’s lips. Where, exactly, was he supposed to go? And now that he’d found Peregrine his desire to continue on was measurably depleted. Peregrine inquired, with more force than was really necessary in Crete’s opinion, though this was something he was used too, as to Osprey’s whereabouts and Crete tried to remember if he had seen Osprey in the crowd when Tyrannus was forcing him out of the pack’s borders. It had been chaotic - Crete wasn’t even sure he was really aware of what had been happening at the time. He shrugged his shoulders, having no more of an answer than that. ‘I don’t know.’ Crete, for all intents and purposes, had assumed that Osprey and Atticus were back in Flightless Falcon’s safe and sound.
"What about Atticus? If he got rid of you, he got rid of Att," Peregrine commented, his eyes glancing past Crete's shoulder as if expecting to see his lookalike lingering somewhere back there. He saw nothing and no one, so his gaze returned to Crete's face, the better to read it. "He's going to single-handedly fuck the falcons over. Dad's probably rolling in his grave and I can't imagine what Mo thinks." Their mother was officially decrepit at this point, so there wasn't much she could do, but surely she wouldn't stand for Tyrannus ruining her legacy?
Grunting in frustration, Peregrine began to work off his negative energy by pacing to and fro in front of Crete, his tail flicking. "Tyrannus really has gone off the deep end," he remarked, having read his brother's silent comment with uncanny accuracy. He paused and met his brother's gaze. "Well, let's hope karma comes around and fucks him in the ass," the Sigma said acerbically, feeling relief at sharing company with someone who understood his bitter anger.
Peregrine repeated what Crete’s shrug had clearly implied out loud, and Crete watched with an apologetic lowering of his head, as his brother’s brow furrowed what Crete knew to be perplexity. Guilt bore down heavily upon Crete’s shoulders. He should have tried to find Osprey, Atticus even - though it had been hard to think let alone move with Tyrannus’ gnashing teeth inches away from his face, and in instances more confusing (and potentially terrifying) his neck. Though the new patriarch of the Falcon’s had never actually bit him, feeling the enraged demon’s - that must have possessed his brother - hot breath saturating the strands of fur at the nape of neck had been too close for comfort in Crete’s opinion. Crete had never been made to feel so incompetent in a matter of seconds as he had when Tyrannus had chased him from his home and he (Crete) couldn’t even make sense of his chaotic and spinning thoughts. For all his intelligence it had been utterly worthless in those split, pivotal seconds. Crete had been reduced to the basics of his nature: instincts. Fight or Flee; and fighting Tyrannus had been out of the question. Crete, though he could have been considered built like a warrior, was not malevolent. Though he had acquired certain skills of moving as silent as his vocal cords made his voice, paired with a fair amount of agility. Those skills were useful in hunting (or spying, though he didn’t agree with such a thing) but little else. Mostly it just tended to unnerve wolves who were not used to Crete’s phantom-like silence.
Crete was broken from his thoughts and brought back to the more pressing present when Peregrine inquired once more, this time in regards to Atticus - the only other male in their litter. Again, Crete was filled with the unpleasant task of having to tell Peregrine, once more, that he did not know. As far as Crete had been aware - no one had came after him, though in all fairness he had not lingered, tearing across the barren, snow covered lands, eager to put as much distance between his demonic brother and himself. Something…somewhere had changed Tyrannus. He had always been the cool older brother, the handsome one that all the girls fawned and giggled over, the older brother that you wanted to be when you grew up, full of life and laughter and epic tales of battle. That brother did not exist anymore, and Crete could not help but feel that they should be mourning him as well as Aether; because Tyrannus’ spiritual death and change was measurably worse than Aether’s spirit’s ascent to Olympus. Crete inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled in a soft sigh, shaking his head, in attempts to bring similar news in regards to Atticus’ whereabouts as he had Osprey’s. There was nothing quite like the crushing guilt of letting Peregrine down, nor the disappointment in his irresponsibility. He had been responsible for them and he had failed (though likely most of Crete’s siblings likely thought that they were responsible for him).
Crete watched Peregrine pace back and forth, ears slicking back to his skull in disgust at himself. At how weak he was. Just because he was mute didn’t mean he couldn’t have stood up to Tyrannus. Crete had been skeptical when Tyrannus had outcast Peregrine, and knew, thanks to Peregrine that it was because Tyrannus thought of them as ‘threats’. Aether was probably enraged in whatever form he had taken when he had passed; which led to the underlining question that they would probably never find an answer too: had Aether noticed this behavior, seething under Tyrannus’ surface for years? Was that the reason he had never been risen to leadership before their father’s passing? It was possible, but useless to contemplate. They would never be welcomed back and though it was painful to admit it even to himself, Crete wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to go back even if someone else took it away from Tyrannus.
Despite the emotionally draining and widely ranged mood swings Crete had been suffering from - likely a combination of poor sleep and the toll being betrayed by a loved one (having left quite a scar) - Peregrine’s talk of karma “fucking Tyrannus in the ass” elicited a silent snicker from Crete, and a crass sneer that pulled at the edges of the mute’s lips. Indeed, Crete hoped that Lady Karma wasn’t gentle with him either. Tyrannus didn’t deserve to be manhandled gently - no usurper, betrayer of kin deserved anything so soft as ‘gentle’.
He didn't even need to look at his brother to sense the chagrin and disgust; it veritably radiated off Crete. Peregrine ceased stalking back and forth and swung around to face his brother, his snout thrusting out to touch against the side of Crete's face. His tail, which hadn't wagged whatsoever in weeks, gave a little wave. Deep in his throat rumbled a crooning note of familiarity and affection. Although Peregrine was far from happy about these circumstances, he still loved his brother and didn't want Crete to feel even worse about the situation.
In any case, Crete evidently found Peregrine's foul mouth amusing. Peregrine smirked at his brother's obvious expression of pleasure, bumping his muzzle against the other male's shoulder now. He then turned and resumed his pacing, his mouth drooping into a frown as his thoughts momentarily overwhelmed him. It seemed impossible that he could hate Tyrannus any more than he already did, and yet Crete's presence here added an entirely new level of savagery to his loathing. Having Crete here also made Peregrine physically ache for Osprey.
"You know, if Tyrant the Anus kicked out you, me and Att, I bet Osprey will desert," he suddenly thought aloud, looking at Crete to see what he made of this exclamation. At first, he hadn't wanted Osprey to leave with him—there was no reason she should exile herself along with him—but now he wanted her to abandon their elder brother. "I bet she'll find her way here," he added in an excited hush, his ears and whiskers quivering. He just barely stifled an eager whine.
Telling himself not to get his hopes up, Peregrine licked his chops and moved to stand beside Crete, bumping his shoulder with his own in yet another display of fraternal affection. "I'll call the Alpha and get you accepted and shit. Her name's Hawkeye. She's all right. Oh, and your new home is called Black Deer Plateau," he said offhandedly, unaware of his slight mistake with the name as he threw back his swarthy head and bayed for Hawkeye to come see him at the borders.
Crete eyed Peregrine thoughtfully, considering his littermate’s line of thinking, unable to help but agree with the inky male. Though Osprey would probably be safe from Tyrannus’ more maniacal schemes, it would make him feel better (and Crete had little doubt it would make Perry feel better too) if Osprey got the hell out of Dodge, preferably before Tyrannus decided to turn upon the fairer sex of their siblings. ‘I’m sure she will,’ If Atticus was close on their tail, or even if he wasn’t, if Osprey had left soon after, Crete’s scent would be, probably, just enough to follow if she didn’t decide to go a different way. Crete nudged Peregrine’s shoulder as his brother paced past him, figuring it was his turn to return the reassurance and comfort. Osprey was smart and would do just fine without them if she decided to go her own way; and if she had decided to follow them, there was no doubt she would find them.
Peregrine promptly stopped pacing to stand beside Crete, who found his brother’s confidence that this Hawkeye, the Alpha of Black Deer Plateau, as Peregrine had called the pack, would accept Crete more than a little overstated. While Crete was certainly not useless by any means of the word - in fact he was determined, as he had been ever since he was a growing child - to be anything but useless. However, while Crete trusted Peregrine to be his voice, he gave his brother a long look, before he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, barely lifting them as Peregrine called for his alpha.
They waited in silence for a few minutes, each of them staring up at the plateau in wait. When Hawkeye didn't immediately materialize, Peregrine chuffed under his breath and turned sideways to face Crete more fully again. "Do you want something to eat while we wait? I've been padding the stockpiles like crazy and there's more than enough to spare. When was the last time you ate?" he questioned, already sidestepping away, ready to spring off toward a cache as soon as Crete gave him a signal of assent.
Maybe she’s just hot for you, Perry, Crete thought with a partially amused, and partially teasing grin tugging at the edges of his face, though this quickly morphed into a crude sneer when Peregrine announced his theory that Hawkeye would take anything with male genitalia. Which had somehow turned into a joke about Crete’s male genitalia and his apparent non-lack thereof. Crete rolled his eyes at his brother’s vulgar humor, shaking his head though, as if it were infectious and Crete couldn’t help himself, he was smirking all the same. Leave it to Peregrine to find the crudest version of “what you lack… you make up for in…”. As it was there usually was some enhancement given in a different part of the body (typically senses, Crete knew) if you were missing one. Though being mute could hardly be considered a sense - if he had abilities elsewhere he failed to see them. Of course, maybe it was something he was so used too that he didn’t even notice there was a difference between him and a “normal” wolf. Which was likely the case.
Peregrine’s suggestion, and following question regarding the last time Crete had eaten, brought to his attention that he was, indeed, hungry. As if on some kind of silent cue his stomach let out a soft grumble, adhering to Crete’s sheepish expression. He had eaten the previous night before he had bedded down. As tempting as it was, at the same time, Crete did not want Peregrine to think that he had to coddle and babysit him. Beyond being suffocating to Crete, it would get boring to Peregrine. Crete shook his head attempting to communicate that he could hunt for himself and Peregrine didn’t need to break into the caches. ‘It’s ok, I can take care of it later.’ Besides, it wasn’t as if Crete was starving to death and would perish at any given moment or anything.
"Well," he said as he settled on his haunches next to his litter mate, "I'd say we could shoot the shit while we wait but seeing as you can't talk and all..." Peregrine gave Crete a sly sideways smirk. "I really hope Osprey shows up," he murmured aloud in the next instant, his blue-green eyes drifting watchfully to the plateau again. "Hawkeye too..." he quipped a bit impatiently, musing quietly about the similarity in the two she-wolves' names.
Sighing again, she turned and bolted. The black beast found it odd that the howl from Peregrine was louder than she usually heard, but she shrugged it off on him being closer to her than other wolves that had previously called.
Arriving, Hawkeye looked at Peregrine curiously, but nodded in acknowledgement. Obviously the sour male must be on good terms with this guy, because he seemed much calmer. "And who may this be, Peregrine? A friend of yours?" She raised an eyebrow; she wanted to know who could actually be in the presence of the blue-black male without getting such a ferocious tongue.
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She addressed Peregrine first - barely seeming to acknowledge the mute beyond inquiring about him (at least this was how Crete took it) - though Crete was not perpetually miffed. It gave him a chance to study her, taking in account Peregrine’s opinions of her, attempting to form his opinions about her. Her methods were a bit…unusual from what Crete expected of an Alpha - Aether had always introduced himself at the borders first, stating his name and making his title/rank clear. Of course, Crete took this to further prove his assumption that she was taken with Peregrine despite their crass and unusual (as Perry told it, anyhow, though Crete did not take his littermate for a liar of any sort) first meeting. Interested in what Peregrine had to say about him to attempt to get him access to Black Deer Plateau, Crete inclined his head towards his brother, keeping Hawkeye in sight so he could watch her out of the corner of his eye.
Crete did not trust enough (borne of Tyrannus' betrayal) to keep her out of his sight - even for a small while.
"He's my brother, actually," Peregrine replied matter-of-factly. "I've told him he'll find a home here." He didn't ask, simply giving Hawkeye a pointed look that said, If you turn him away, you lose me too. "He was born mute but he's excellent at communicating in other ways. He's sharp as a tack and can contribute in any way you need." While making his case for Crete's acceptance, the swarthy Sigma maintained a brusque tone and stony face.
However, he paused momentarily and let a smile—the first of its kind since he'd met Hawkeye—slowly turn up the corners of his maw before he finished off his brother's curriculum vita by saying, "And he's packing, if you know what I mean." Peregrine winked a dusky blue-green eye and snickered lightly in Crete's direction, since part of the fun was knowing his brother couldn't even protest.
"I understand that I let you into my pack even though you were sharp in the tongue, but do not think that means you can disrespect me in my pack. And do no assume that just because he is your brother that I will accept him into the ranks; he will have to prove himself worthy, the same as you. Just because I pitied you when you first arrived does not in any way mean you should test my patience, Peregrine." She turned to the other male, making sure he understood her words.
Looking him in his colorful eyes, she said (gently this time): "You are welcome in my lands, but as I said, you must prove yourself. If you are as good as your brother said, you will be welcomed and treated as anyone else." The midnight wolf took a step forward and lowered her voice, as if trying to shield her speech from Peregrine; she did not want him hearing her words. "I am mostly deaf, and I will not treat you any less for a disability. As long as you hold your own, you will be held as an equal -- I will make sure of that."
Turning back towards Peregrine, Hawkeye hmm'd. "What is your brother's name, Peregrine?"
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"He's my brother," were his only words in his own defense and they weren't even said brusquely. He gave Crete a fond sideways glance. Hopefully Hawkeye would understand what he meant and that his behavior stemmed from his fraternal urges to protect Crete and keep him near at hand.
Hawkeye turned to address Crete directly and Peregrine remained mum until she turned back to him. "It's Crete. I didn't know you were mostly deaf," he added, wondering if that was why she hadn't objected to his foul language before; maybe she hadn't really picked up on it? Eyes gliding between the two, he observed aloud, "Well, aren't you two just made for each other?"
Relieved to have his brother officially welcomed into the ranks, Peregrine thought he ought to explain what brought Crete here on his brother's heels. "Our dad died a few weeks ago and Mo—our mom—decided to retire. In their stead, our older brother, Tyrannus, rose to power. And, well, he decided every other male in the pack was a threat to this throne and he kicked us all out without a second thought." His ears flattened to indicate his displeasure.
"I actually expect some of our other litter mates may eventually appear too, as a result of Tyrannus's rampage," he concluded, giving Hawkeye fair warning that she might experience a flood of Redleaf-DiSarinno wolves—at least one of which would be yet another young bachelor.
Nodding at Peregrine's mention of his brother's name, she turned to the other male and nodded once more saying "Crete" in a nice-to-meet you sorta way. With Peregrine's "made for each other" comment, she quipped, "You could just as easily say that you and I were made for each other. I hardly know your brother, though if his anatomy is what you say it is..." She winked at the swarthy male, trying her hand at going back to her sarcastic nature.
While she was giving Crete a look of sympathy at his brother's harsh, but possibly true, comments, Peregrine began speaking again. Hawkeye listened quietly, and her heart went out two the two males. "As I have said, you are both welcome here and will not be kicked out in fear. This is your home as long as you desire it so." She hoped that her words gave comfort, but knew she could not do anything to heal the damage that could be done.
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The leader's next words made Peregrine snort quietly to himself, though he didn't make a reply. Instead, he turned to Crete and grinned at his brother. "We're pack mates again," he observed, a thrill running through his body. Having Crete here was like having a shot of adrenaline pumped directly into his bloodstream. His entire demeanor had changed from sulky, sour and resigned. Now, Peregrine felt happy and hopeful.
"You and me—and Osprey and Att, if they show up too—are gonna rock the plateau's face off," he said under his breath for only Crete to hear (especially if Hawkeye was mostly deaf). Louder, he added, "Come on, let's head up there and give you the grand tour and all that jazz. Don't worry, we won't forget about the refreshments." With a wink of one dusky eye, he turned and motioned for Hawkeye to lead the way home.
Crete’s ears and head lowered in submission when the ebony woman took a step towards him, sea-green eyes watching her with guarded caution - mistrustful these days on sheer instinct; and perhaps it wasn’t going to help his case but there wasn’t much Crete could do about it. It was something - like his unusual mood swings that would simply have to work it’s way out of his system. Her whispered words caused the mute to pause, studying her with muted curiosity when she admitted to being mostly deaf. Of course almost a heartbeat later, Peregrine belted out about them being made for each other. Fierce, long look was given to Peregrine out of the corner of Crete’s eyes, 'Shut up'. Hawkeye, though, was quick to respond with a quip of her own, causing Crete’s body to shake with silent laughter, a tantalizingly smug smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he spared Peregrine another glimpse, in a 'I told you so' manner. Eyebrow rose just as quickly as they returned back to Crete’s anatomy once more, nearly eliciting a silent sigh from Crete who barely managed to bite it back. How, exactly, Crete absently wondered, could Peregrine talk about his (Crete’s) male genitalia when he had no idea. Not to mention, it was kind of uncomfortable for Crete who shifted his weight in a discreet manner that he hoped Peregrine didn’t pick up on.
He was not a huge fan of having his body discussed in excruciating detail when he was standing right there. Crete had always been awkward around girls that were not his siblings, because, well, it wasn’t as if he could hold conversations with them. Being mute made the dating scene painfully awkward and, what Crete felt as impossible.
Peregrine spoke to Hawkeye about leading the way, and Crete rose to his paws, shaking his coat free once, intentionally shouldering Peregrine, before he snorted, rolling his eyes once more, internally grateful to Hawkeye for not kicking them out on the spot. It took a special kind of creature to be tolerant of Peregrine if they did not grow up with him. Maybe Peregrine’s ideas of Hawkeye were nothing more than misconceptions - she didn’t seem so bad to Crete thus far.