«Return of the Shadow Sire»

Slade gave Burke the impression that he was silently listening all while tallying the naive brutes fatal mistakes. Tsk, tsk, tsk. 
Surely he had better sense than what he was defining himself, especially as a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Even the sense being an Alpha, surely something would have twinkled in that deliciously removable skull of his?

"Just a title, indeed."

In truth Slade kept himself in the mentality of a Dark King, and he had seen himself as such, on and off of these lands. The title was something he was worthy of. How dare this mongrel impersonate? 
All is well. 

He thought Slade was flattering him? Pity. He should have spent more time with the wood sheathed lupine. Then again, he would have known to shut his maw a long time ago. Keep him talking, the more info he would receive. Burke wasn't exactly holding his tongue, and that proved to the Slade the downfall of the pack, before the new Alpha even faltered his speech.

The storm had been a very good hand in his departure, and the Shadow Sire nodded, giving Burke an impression that he as engaged in the conversation. 
With a raised brow, he rumbled a question, a gilded sentence.

"Have you not the numbers to expand or move?"

It was a waste of breath to ask, for Slade already knew the answer. If Burke had been more comfortable with his pack as it ran, he would not have said anything about the landscape, dwindling numbers, or the names of who had taken their leave. The landscape had probably impacted the population of already scarce prey, and like all sensible wolves, they left. They could have even had plans of their own. 
Like him. 
It was a test, more or less, for the older male. One to see which side of darkness Burke was truly on. 

Then he spoke of mates. The list of other wolves who's existence hadn't made him any closer to caring for them, in the first place. They had yet to earn it. And futility ran its course, because they had not. Suddenly, the onyx ears sparked at the name of the Queen. 
Impossible. 
Burke was her chosen mate? 
This babbling fool? A puppet pulling strings while she secreted away in her web? 
Impossible his absence timeframe. He could not have been gone that long. 

Appraised and impressed place it's image on Slades diabolical face, his thickly silked serpentine tail thumping the ground in congrats. 
That face. It was there, and most could lose the chance to catch it, if they were not careful. But he was. Always. Careful and as observant as a viper before it stuck an innocent mouse. 
Something had happened to the Queen. 
So this was why he was here. Interesting.

"I was notified of my brother skulking land near SwiftWater Creek, his pitiful excuse was looking for a pack. A simple trip I took, going to say hello to him, whilst ending his life. You remember the swine I told you I had loathed for his weakness. On my way home, I was ambushed by that murderous storm while dragging my brothers corpse, and I had to leave it behind in the flood waters. I planned to give his hide as a tribute to Meldresi, and as an offering to Sithis, but the only proof I have now is the memory of the battle, and this scar."

Slade regally took his banner from his left flank, revealing a viscous gleaming scar he had received from a recent bear attack. 
Lying was a beautiful art, and he was a master weaver in the piece. 

"I have just found the dark clouds, and immediately made way back, without hesitation in my stride."

Now, more of a dangerous topic, since his alibi was laid on a flawlessly shining platter.

"Now tell me, Burke, New King of the Darkness, what has happened to your Queen?"