Porcupine Ridge the devil and his sons

Romulus's silver ears twitched as a voice cut through the tense silence of the air. It didn't say any actual words, but instead, the owner of the voice was tsking him. In a humorous manner. As if this was anything that was funny, or needed tsking. His anger flared and for a moment, Rom was tempted to lift his head and glare straight into the speaking wolf's eyes, challenging him but he restrained himself and kept silent, ears returning to their position flat against his proud silver crown. This is the real world, the wild world, he thought to himself grimly. You got to play this right, or you'll end up dead. Dad won't be very happy with you. Not that he'll know anyways. Don't disappoint dad, he taught you all about this world, you should've listened. Make him proud.

Romulus remained still in his position of submission, he did not raise his eyes when the tawny wolf greeted the black male, did not do anything but stay still. It was the middle of winter and Rom couldn't afford to be turned away yet. If it was spring or summer, perhaps he would have challenged the agouti and left, but now, he simply couldn't afford to be mouthy and rude just yet. He needed a pack; a place where he could survive. His pride would have to wait. Survival came first. Reduced to the basic instinct to survive, eh? Thought you said that'll never happen to you, said a nasty voice inside his head. I'm naive and stupid, I'll play it right now, Romulus replied to the voice in his head in a rueful manner, ashamed at himself but still fueled with hurt pride and anger.

The youth's ears twitched again, catching the sounds of slow approach and his heartbeat quickened immediately. Surely, surely not, he thought to himself, rather panicked. Then the panic was replaced by fiery rage and youthful idiotic aggressiveness. He submitted already, so what the hell? Romulus's first instinct was to jump away and snarl at the approaching male which pretty much meant being a lone wolf once more. Stop, he thought to himself fiercely. Restrain yourself, boy. Your father taught you better than that, snarled the cold voice of his patron god in his head. If you're beaten before you've even joined a pack, you're utterly pathetic, unworthy of being my champion, Pluto spat at him.

Romulus winced, bi-colored eyes glazed over for a second and a shadow of a grimace crossed his face before vanishing into a mask of neutrality once more. His muscles tensed beneath his thick winter coat, and his blunt claws dug into the snow before relaxing once more. He did not move, but remained still, grimacing only slightly.