Rising Sun Valley Entrance to Nevada

The youth was spry, easily moving out of the way of Rhanno's attack. It was a given that Zoratto had predicated his move; he had lost count of how many times he had sought to punish the boy after even the smallest acts of defiance. Physical punishment was the only way Rhanno really knew how to keep subordinates in line. Besides, it had worked so well for so long, and it was the way of the Dotharan. His teaching methods were becoming less and less powerful, however, especially as his captive aged and grew stronger as he himself became more...frail.

He clicked his teeth back at the boy, tempted to try and take him down again. He backed away, though, instead moving past Zoratto and watching him from the corner of his eye lest he try something. It stung, the reminder that he had been overthrown by his own son, but Rhanno only flattened his ears in response, letting a low rumble reverberate from his throat echoing his captive's own deep voice. "Astahii jahen plythu," he growled, falling silent after his curt reply. They had followed him to the ends of the earth, before revealing their true traitorous selves once Tihollo had taken the reigns. If he had known his wolves were so weak-willed, he would have dispersed long ago. While it was known that to lose a fight was pathetic — especially at his age, especially against his own son — Rhanno had expected more from his Khalas. He only hoped the pack and the Khal they were following weren't so feeble.