Ouroboros Spine weathered

Now that they'd picked up the trail, they worked to cover it, to let it fade away under their stronger, fresher scents. From the night they'd arrived, Kroc had wondered about this has-been alpha, the one that cared nothing for her pack and displayed as such by her unforgivable disappearance. How shitty of a leader did you have to be to do something like that? Apparently one like this female. Her boyfriend wasn't any better in Kroc's mind, either, though his scent was much more faint, as if he had only stopped by and then stolen her away.

Fools.

"How long have you run with Tartok?" She asked idly, in their pack's natural tongue. Kroc was a bit rusty with her words; she had learned on her own, under Siku's reign and while her vernacular wasn't perfect, she got her point across nonetheless. Figuring she'd rather know a little more about Echelon than any of the others for the moment, the question wasn't wholly unwarranted, though if the dark wolf deflected and chose not to answer, that was fine too.