Swiftcurrent Creek death brings life · pack meeting

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Children.


That was the scent beneath the delicate fragrance of his daughter's body, and though a long, low dread thrummed through him, Lecter could not think who had placed the cubs within her womb. Nausea gripped him as he attempted to ponder the choices, and so the shaman, swallowing back the bitterness that had rose into his throat, blinked languidly and came back to himself.


The foxwolf was addressing him, her tone brisk, and Lecter's eyes cooled significantly, though he fought successfully the urge to curl his lip at the other's disrespect. A scant handful of days ago he had been in the topmost ranks, and now with Lethe's passing, he had fallen, beneath this halfwolf who could not even keep her meat within her belly.


"I am Lecter. I have served the Kesuk line since before any single one of you sucked at your mother's teat," his voice growled out, and he rose as he spoke, drawing strength from Clarice's silent presence. "I am shaman and seer, a tracker of storms and herds." His muscles tensed; aged though he was, the pale madman did not feel that he was too elderly to follow the elk and deer.


"But foremost I am the keeper of lore, a teacher to those I deem receptive to my lessons. That is all I intend to be known as, in this pack or outside of it." Lecter finished coolly, not quite meeting Fox's eyes, as not to be disrespectful, but his stance would not be unmoved. Let the halfwolf throw him from her lands. He would not fight for his role here, only his place alongside Jinx, alongside Clarice.