Darker than blood

They both responded to his question. Nanuk with vehemence and Tonravik with annoyance. Some packs implemented reservations, others did not. Kapvik was learning their ways...or, well, he was trying to. Both of their replies did not warrant further questions. Actually, it sounded like the next wolf to come knocking on their door should be attacked on site, regardless of placement, disposition, or desire to join. Instead of bolstering their ranks, it sounded like they wished to weaken them. Uh. And what about the probability of pissing off some wolf with power behind them.? As if Tartok was the only pack in the entire world to have branches of it's own. Uh! The stupid are not long for this world. Indeed. Foolishness can be found in all places. Even here, it seems.
INDENTHoly shit. It was way past his bedtime and the crabbiness was starting to settle in. He literally sounded like a petulant child what with all that was going on in his head. “I should go,” mumbled he, voice showing evidence to his condition. Not wanting to bite anyone's head off, Kapvik waded through the waters to the bank, stepping back on to land with a tired yawn. He was not good company late into the evening. Looking over his shoulder, he dipped his crown in farewell before trotting off.