Blackfoot Forest Sturm Und Drang

The woman did not touch the hare that he had thrown to her feet, and this caused a ghost of a grin to curl his lips ever so slightly. “You came for food. Eat,” he said to her. There was no shame in the idea that she was forced to come to the borders because the lack of prey in the Teekon Wilds was enough to drive anyone outside of their solitary existence. He had known the hardships of living outside of a pack – belonging only to oneself was a demanding task. Famine had made the life of a lone wolf almost impossible, even for the skilled. But part of him was grateful that she had been forced to his borders. Her curt responses were welcome to his ears.
 
At the mention of the tour, she told him that it had been informative, but followed that statement with a question of her own. A sigh fell from his lips and he furrowed his brows tightly across his fire gaze. “I took their leader from them. I inserted myself into a position that was not mine,” he explained to her. “They don’t like me.” And this was true; they were not likely to accept him into their ranks because he had not taken it rightfully and because none of the wolves of Rosings even knew who he was. They would learn quickly, though.
 
“But I do not care if they like me. I was driven here by the same thing that brought you. Their alpha just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he rumbled and his broad shoulders shrugged in a sense of saying that it was something that simply happened. “I will need you. I will need you to make sure that any signs of overthrowing me are washed out.” It was simple enough. Without the pale-furred woman, he would stand alone. If he could find others who would sit beside him, he would have a higher chance of holding his position over the pack.