Larksong Grotto Some Things Are Worth Fighting For

Charley had been scarce since the calf hunt, nursing his wounds and broken pride. He'd not returned to Aspen since then, or anyone for that matter. Around the borders he'd stalked, daring any of those Dragons to show their faces. The gash on his face still burned though it was healing well, but it hurt worse to remember hed lost his own kill. 
Today, he headed for the lake to fill his belly with water. It wasnt the meat he, and everyone, so craved, but it gave him an illusion of being full. He'd scented the seer bitch, the alpha female, on the borders and among his home again, and it pissed him off she hadnt stayed gone. In his carribean eyes, shed corrupted his friend Reek. Perhaps something at the lake could provide a distraction?
It seemed as though the brutes wishes came true as he approached, seeing the slim form of Zaavier. With a worn out chuff of greeting, Charley headed for the only one who could share his anger with the hunt and the rival pack.