Kintla Flatlands Isn't there a Superman to sweep me off my feet?

Crete let his eyes touch his niece, noting with a touch of worry that she looked a little worse for wear than he remembered. Unabashed, the mute studied her scars -- or what was visible to him at any rate -- unable to help but wonder what had happened to her. He wasn't privvy on what was going on other packs, but he hadn't even realized she was in the Wilds. Peregrine might have mentioned it in passing, but if he did Crete did not astutely remember. Frankly, he had a lot on his mind these days, and it seemed that despite Peregrine's assurance Hawkeye and Crete would never be ok with one another, which frankly worried Crete. If Hawkeye was pregnant how would he perceive their pups? Would Crete love them or hate them? It scared him that he had no definitive answer (even though he realized that the children were not to blame in any case).

Pied claimed his attention away from his thoughts, of which Crete was grateful for. It is dear niece, Crete understood that Pied would probably have trouble reading the more intricate body language and so he settled for an affectionate nuzzle to her chin. She spoke of having a message for him and his siblings, which picked at his curiousity. As it was, his siblings might not translate it correctly, or he might mess up a few times, but every ally he would get it across. Crete nodded his confirmation that he would (and could) pass it along - even if he had to spell it out in the dirt.