Blood on my Hands

The response was succinct. It wasn't taken personally. A small lift of muzzle attempted to subtly display this though there was difficulty in portraying such a personal emotion. The motion of the bear-wolf's muzzle was met with a submissive bob of head, jawline tucking and tall pinna remaining slicked back in flippant observance of rank. Wide paws began their trek with the female, saying nothing more and allowing the larger, higher ranking alpha tend her path. 

The spider sidled towards an area of rock and debris where the path narrowed off against the dip in the mountain. Lifting a leg, only just enough to calculate aim, the beast urinated against the dusty terrain briefly before continuing onward. It was not within the Eta's nature to squat for marking practices and there was hope the leader did not read too much into the displayed action. "Do we have enemies? he wondered only when a lapse of time had produced enough thought on the subject. It wasn't a query based on fear, but rather who to antagonize fully while out on patrols. A scent to categorize as weakness and wolves that could be fully taken advantage of should the need arise. 

Fiery eyes rolled back to the scarred female's direction, features adhering to a stony gaze that often overtook malicious playfulness outside the Spire's domain.