Bearclaw Valley attacks in the night

The story was returned with one of his own, the sterling, and Cry internally breathed a sigh of relief. 
He hadn't fucked up, just yet.

A squirrel missed an overhead branch, and landed on its back, a few paces ahead of the color contrasted men, and the paralyzed prey had the unfortunate death of slow suffocation as Cry deftly buried it, resuming strife with the Alpha.

"A close uncle of mine, Slade his name is.. Or was, depending on whether he's still alive, or not, was one of the most important members of the BlackFeather in its beginning of making. He was quite respected in the band of outlandish wolves there. He bore mark of The Dark Brotherhood, that single crimson paw atop his shoulder. I trained with him before my short days of pack life at the Sea were cut shorter by the storm."

More scuttling above the pair nearly made Cry whip his banner in annoyance, but as always, he kept composed. 

"The one thing I trust in my uncle is his inability to trust pack over blood. He spilled the secrecy of the cult to me, their aspects on religion, and their manner of handling problems that stand in their way before a goal. "

Giving his leader a solemn nod, he affirmed the choice.

"You were right not to trust them, Raziel. They are reliant on stealth. They are assassins who distract one foe, and murder their closest asset. That asset could be Scarlet, if any of their numbers find out. As her death could cause the starvation of pups, perhaps a reason was for the pup being brought here. Maybe Leo's own mother passed, and some trusted the pup to be taken here. Someone in their lack has trust in this pack."

"Or,"

Cry turned his stare to the morning sky, the clouds soft, but his irises hardening, a bit of the impact reaching his voice.

"Someone could be seeing to frame BearClaw, Raziel, taking the pup without mothers consent, and attempting to start a war. "