The Sunspire I should be wiser.

The day was almost over. The evening sky had cast the mountain in to a dreary almost-darkness and he could spy a few stars trying to break through the cloud cover, but then the clouds were always drifting and collecting, and the mountain's forests were of no help. Screech had never taken much of an interest in the stars before. He felt the chill in the air, like a storm was on its way, and scoffed, idling in his thoughts. He had taken to wandering in the parts of the territory where he knew nobody had ventured; the boy would scout the area for scents and depart as soon as any hint of Terance or Seabreeze popped up, and grew speculative of the rest. It wasn't until he discerned the scent of @Rannoch in the air that he paused, stared skyward, then deviated his path.

The alpha seemed to be alone — perhaps he was doing the same as Screech, and nursing his wounds. Counting his losses. As the silver boy came upon the scene he spied a canine figure and assumed it was his old friend, and found that cold sensation of the wind had penetrated his thinning winter coat; he felt it down to the core of his being, through his bones and deep in to his heart. A glacial shroud. But the boy coughed a sound towards the figure all the same, and drew close.

Rannoch's attention had been easily obtained. He had distanced himself from the rest of that pack with the intention of reflecting on the events of the day. Although his grief still lingered, a weight had lifted off of his shoulders after he had talked with Liffey. 

Rannoch turned towards the source of the noise, and his body language straightened as he realized it was Titmouse who had caught his attention. "Screech," Rannoch greeted, using the name that the yearling had picked for himself, "Do you have time to talk?"

He regarded the other wolf with glassy eyes— evidence of the tears he had previously shed— and a faint smile. Rannoch wanted to right his wrongs, and hopefully, this conversation would allow for them to discuss what had happened.

Rannoch didn't look anything like the version the boy had created in his mind. Sure he was big and strong, but he looked like he had been deflated somewhat since the events earlier. It was evident that he had been crying and that alone made Screech slow to acquiesce to the leader's request; it wasn't right for someone to be so emotional when they were in control — or supposed to be. Apparently according to Screech, leaders were meant to be powerful, stalwart, and empty.

But he came closer, making sure not to stare too intently at Rannoch's face. He ended up settling near to the older wolf and sank upon his haunches, his ears alert but the rest of him seemingly detatched. He didn't know what to say to Rannoch at this point and, not wanting to sever whatever thin thread kept Screech in his good graces still, he chose to remain mute. Maybe that was his petulant side showing. Either way Screech didn't want to be the one to broach the subject of Redshank — he was thinking of all the things he could say instead.

Rannoch's smile brightened as Screech approached. Suddenly, as he realized how close Titmouse would be, Rannoch was conscious about his rumpled appearance; he wiped his eyes with his forearm in an attempt to remove any of the tears that remained. 

"I made some decisions today that I am not very proud of," he admitted once Screech had sat, "Some of which affected you directly. And I will repeat what I said today— your choices today will not be held against you. I understand that you were protecting your friend." Although Rannoch wouldn't have acted similarly, he could understand where Screech had been coming from. "I'm not proud of the wolf I was out there, and I'm especially not proud that Redshank got hurt because of it. Now that I know where his anger was coming from, I can see where he was coming from, and I understand his anger." He felt a twinge of regret as he recalled Redshank's sentiments. 

"It was a difficult situation, and I didn't do the right thing. Even though Redshank was intruding, and even though he was threatening to kill me, we should have just tried to chase him out, if anything." He shook his head, and looked to Screech, "I'm sure that you have some things to say, and I want to hear what's on your mind." Even if he was faced with a shitstorm, Rannoch wanted there to be an opportunity to talk about it. 

"But, please, understand my perspective of it. Even though it doesn't make it right— my life was being threatened, and I thought I was right. Obviously, I wasn't, and I will learn from this." He sighed then and looked at Titmouse curiously as he wondered what the yearling would make of it. "You're family, and I care about you. I want to make things right between us, if possible." 

He didn not know what to expect from Rannoch, but what came from him neither surprised nor disappointed him. But Screech remained passive and silent. He listened until the other wolf had finished, and when Rannoch's voice died out finally, it was Screech's turn. But he couldn't quite get his thoughts in order. There were many facets to what happened today — but when it was all said and done, Screech held certain truths within him that couldn't be ignored.

He took a breath, and then said, You should've killed him.

Before Rannoch could interject the boy continued, and yet he was still unable to look at the Alpha.

Redshank will not stop, he hates everything about you and that isn't going to change. Liffey was right to try and stop you, but you should've had a spine and stood up against her; you're the Alpha, and that means you can do whatever you want. If protecting your family means killing, you should kill. Screech sounded so clinical as he spoke; he wouldn't let a single shred of emotion enter his voice, which was a feat unto itself. And he wasn't finished there. But if you had killed Redshank, if he had been harmed in any way — Screech finally looked at his once-idol, fixing his orange eye upon him like a sniper's scope. I would've killed you, or done my best to try.

What he was saying flew in the face of everything he had been doing during the actual event in question, but Screech had been given time to think and his anger had become something else - something deeper. His view of Rannoch had been shattered today and there was likely no mending it. I'm not your family. Liffey's not even my family, not really, come his counter-points to Rannoch's final statements, You might've left Moonspear but they didn't leave you; you surround yourself with their evil, and it's already begun to corrupt you. You're becoming like them. Liffey sees it. This family you're trying to create here is made out of the wrong parts, he was losing a bit of that monotony now and feeling something but Screech didn't have a name for it; maybe it was revulsion, maybe it was anger, or a mix of all sorts of things — but he had to stop talking or he'd run his mouth so much that Rannoch would probably try to slap him or something, if he hadn't already.

I saw how Liffey looked at you, she was horrified. Those Moonspear wolves were ready to do your bidding because their old masters were just as awful. Fuck, you didn't even notice that your best friend has been sneakin' around and banging the ladies — do you even know what you're doing?

He took a breath and stopped, and the look on his face was a touch apologetic but there was more pity there than anything else; Screech braced himself for the impact of his words - or the impact of Rannoch's teeth - and had mindlessly gotten to his feet again as he had spoken, ready to bolt.— 

Screech's opinion confused Rannoch, and his expression changed to reveal his uncertainty. "Do you not realize that Liffey is also an Alpha?" he asked; Rannoch wondered if he hadn't made that clear to him. "And that she has as much say in any matter as I do?" Did he not understand how it all worked? 

Screech's tirade continued, and Rannoch found himself disengaging from the insults that were directed at him and his best friend; it seemed like Titmouse only voiced opinions for the shock value they created. Rannoch realized that it was what happened with Terance, and now, he was doing it to him; the trend was becoming more apparent. Rannoch's shoulders squared, and he listened the rest of the monologue with a grain of salt. 

When all was said and done, Rannoch's stare locked onto Screech, and he asked with a trace of concern, "Do you know what you're doing?" 

When Rannoch turned the entire thing back on him, Screech dissented with a huff. He almost didn't respond, but his eye narrowed and then he looked at the dirt for a second. I'm just pissed off. He was always pissed off though — he'd been pissed when he'd been chased away from the valley, pissed when he'd lost his chance to be helpful in the war, pissed that he'd broken his leg, pissed to see Towhee's face, pissed to be in the Vale. Anger was all he knew, apparently. Everything was reduced to an embrous rage that he stoked with every piece of himself.

Rannoch had a point though, succinct though his words had been. Screech continued, All I know is that I'm nothing here. You're supposed to be my family and you put me on the bottom because I didn't make nice with your darkie friend, it was the first time he'd referred to Terance as such out loud, and the vehemence in his voice was unmistakable. I was so excited to hear your howls — but it didn't really matter now. This had nothing to do with the events at the border, Screech was just a sore loser and couldn't let anything go. It had only been twenty-four hours and he'd already ruined another potential home.

He suddenly jumped to another conclusion: Liffey said... She said you're targets of Moonspear because you left them. How do you know you can trust your own pack, then? They're all from Moonspear, they could still be loyal, he was thinking aloud more than anything now, and finally landed upon one fact, They will always want me dead too. I should just leave, that way you can go on your merry way with your new family — deep down Screech just didn't feel safe but he didn't know how to explain that any better than he already was.

Moonspear was the enemy and Rannoch had built his pack out of their leftovers; did he not see the dangers of that?

"I put you at the bottom because you disrespected your Beta right off the bat," Rannoch corrected, "Because you were my family, you were allowed to stay." His nose scrunched suddenly, and he asked, "Darkie? What is that supposed to mean?" It had taken getting his point across for Rannoch to realize that Titmouse had referred to Terance as something that he had never heard before— something that didn't sit well with the Alpha. 

Titmouse furthered his acquisitions of Terance and Wraen, and Rannoch shook his head. "They have proven themselves to me time and time again. I have no reason to distrust them." Sunspire was more likely to be targeted by Moonspear because they had allowed Screech into their ranks. 

"I cannot force you to stay, especially when you seem so pissed about how I am running my pack," he acknowledged.

He shrugged his shoulders and murmured, Forget it, when Rannoch pointed out his comment and didn't bother to explain himself. There was no point — plus he was a little embarrassed that he'd gotten so carried away with his ranting. But then the Alpha was repeating himself, saying all those things he'd said before about being nice to the Beta and then, supporting his chosen family like Screech expected.

The option to leave was there; Rannoch didn't seem interested in stopping him either, and encouraged the opposite, which made Screech's stomach feel like it was twisting in to a knot. Evidently Screech was more sensitive than he let on, and was certain that Rannoch didn't want him after all. It was a wound that scored him deeply. Fine, he responded sharply, then I'll go say goodbye to Liffey and get off your land.

With a dramatic turn he began to make his way back along the ridge, but moved at a slow enough pace that Rannoch could easily stop him if he so chose. There was no way for Screech to make the other wolf change his mind, he'd obviously established some sort of false trust with his new family, been brainwashed in to thinking they were better for him, and Screech's protests weren't going to be effective.

In all honesty, the kid was just a mess. He had no idea what he was doing, why he said what he said, or why he felt the need to push Rannoch away. Later when he was alone, Screech would convince himself that he was leaving the Sunspire in order to keep them all safe — but he knew it was because he just didn't fit in.

That was that. 

"Alright, Screech," Rannoch replied, "If that's your decision, I'll support it." At this point, what else was there to say? 

As Titmouse walked away, Rannoch stood and watched him; he felt suddenly drained of his emotions, and exhausted from the events of the past day. With Screech's departure confirmed, the only thing on Rannoch's mind was returning to the den and sleeping.  Once Titmouse's silhouette was out of sight, Rannoch tipped his head back with the last ounce of energy he possessed and called to Screech, his message loud and clear— best of luck, wherever you go.