Ankyra Sound there's an aching inside

There was a storm waging war inside of the ghost. He knew the crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder all too well. Still, the pallid creature did not want to share this information with the sea wolf. Kierkegaard already felt as though he was allowing his weakness to speak more than should have been permitted. He could not help the strange curvature of his figure, or the serpentine craning of his neck; these were things that had simply overtaken him in his age, and though he did not welcome the changes to his physique – it was one war that the brute could not fight with fang and claw.
 
If only he could excuse himself with the devastation that the famine had wrought.
 
When her inquiry fell on his ears, the ghostly male frowned and turned his gaze toward the earth with a burning in his gut. The circumstances of his arriving on the doorstep of the sea-side pack were subjects that he had hoped to bury in the tangles of his memory. If he had not found himself with a sense of loyalty toward the woman, he would have opted not to share a thing. As it was, Kierkegaard found a great deal of comfort in the sharp yellow of the coywolf’s gaze. He would grant her what she wished to know from him.
 
Drawing his skull upward, the ghost breathed a heavy sigh. “I had taken the alpha rank from a wolf in the wood,” he spoke, gesturing with his dark nose toward the land where Rosings was located. “I held the position for a little more than a month before I realized that the wolves there were pathetic creatures… that I wanted nothing to do with them. They attempted to rise up and overthrow me, but I did not wish to belittle myself by dignifying their effort to fight. I left my seed in the alpha female and want nothing more to do with those spineless whelps.” There was a foul distaste for the wolves who occupied the ranks of Rosings.  
 
With narrowed brows, he cast his vision toward the distant pack that he held such distaste for. “But if she should birth my blood, I will return to claim my child.” In that he would not waver.