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There was concrete behind Tagg's tone. He believed in his choice, even with the doubts cast in by some of the collective. She followed his gaze into the hazy midnight, frowning in thought. Diane did not share the same worries as the other, but then again, politics had never exactly been a concern for her before. Nor had she ever been a part of a society that sought to keep other wolves at bay. Weren't they all of the same ancestral blood? The Cove encouraged newcomers—the fish had always been overly bountiful—and they never wanted for anything. Peace was the principle; besides the occasional battle against sea lions, sharks, and inland predators that encroached. 


She had never before considered a shortage of food, but the prospect didn't frighten her. It only made the young Kappa eager to find a solution. Eyes like ancient gold continued to scan to the darkwoods. She didn't need to affirm to him that he was doing a good job, or making the right choices. He had a good enough head on his shoulders without any of her ignorant advice or anyone else's opinion.

Finally she withdrew her gaze from the shadows, perching them instead on the tall inkwell beside her, his eyes, like a morning storm, watching her casually. Diane felt suddenly sheepish, reminded of how far out of her element she was. She looked away, pulling her ears back as she did so. "I want to help feed everyone, Sir Tagg, but I'm afraid I haven't had much practice with prey not native to the coast... I don't want to be a burden here," she painfully admitted.

"I won't be a burden here." Diane turned to the Alpha with a redetermined look.