hate is a strong word

FitzDutiful was on his way to the site of the howl when he picked up the scent of Bindi in the air. Cautiously, he decided to still approach but to stay out of sight until needed. He wanted help with the leadership and wanted Bindi to earn that back. Despite everything that had happened he still wanted something between them. He wanted her, he just didn't know if she wanted him - or wanted to be a leader for Silvertip Mountain.

He caught the trail end of the conversation, someone was here to join but Issun had tried to scare them away in disbelief. He didn't blame the black male, for the scent on the wind was that of the Blackfeather pack.

The white ghost, contrast to the black figures, stayed back from the borders. Watching from atop of the rock he was on - ready to jump down if this female wanted to join. His eyes remained welcoming to the newcomer and yet his stance was protective of his lands. The one thing he needed to know was that she could pull her weight, but FitzDutiful was content to let Bindi handle the gathering of that knowledge. She knew what it took.