Ira watched as the earthen kissed male’s shoulders rose and fall in what Ira thought was a sigh though the Prince was too far away to be able to tell by sound alone. Icy silver eyes watched as the male made a show — at least that was how Ira took the stretch and yawn to be — theatrics. Ira scoffed at the use of the title of ‘young one’. It was true and the Juvenile knew it but that did not mean he had to accept or even like it (which he didn’t). “I didn’t ask for excuses,” Ira responded harshly. “Or corrections.” Meditation. What in the hell was that? It certainly looked like napping to Ira. “Well you aren’t a regular helpful Harry,” The insolent Princeling drew with cold judgment and cutting sarcasm in his tone, giving the other man a mocking, toothy, cruel smile. New meat was new meat whether they resided higher in the hierarchy than Ira did — of which this male seemed overeager to point out daring to call Ira subordinate. No. That was wrong, very, very wrong. So wrong it was nearly laughable. Technicalities had never mattered to Ira. Technically, yes, everyone was “in charge” of Ira but the Prince of Silvertip had never saw it that way. Jinx was the only one who was allowed to tell him what to do. Jinx, alone, held the respect required to command Ira around. No one else (except for maybe Lecter whom Ira was…not warming up too but liking a little bit better than he had since they had abolished their enmity between them).
It was then that the Prince laughed. Not a mirthful sound but one intended to mock. “You could try,” The pre-teen hissed sneering at Majesty, tail lashing behind his hind legs. “You’re damn right you won’t,” Ira conceded, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The subtle hint in the other Silvertip man’s voice was noticed but largely ignored by Ira who did not give respect except to those whom he deemed worthy of it. As far as Ira was concerned, he was one of Jinx’s most loyal considering he had been with her since before Silvertip’s founding. Admittedly, when she had found him he had needed her and gradually that need had morphed into affection until he stuck with her because she was his adoptive mother, and in that respect, the only mother he had ever known. Of course Ira did not expect the other male to know who he was talking too, but that was the fun of the game. There was always a chance that even if he had known who Ira was it might have not made a difference. Regardless, Ira didn’t care; and since he didn’t have other pre-teens his age to run around asserting his dominance over he had to make due with the members of Silvertip. Of course Ira expected retaliation and this gave Ira a chance to sharpen up on battling with wits instead of physical battles alone (not that he really fancied the idea of a fight he was too worried about self perseverance for that). “What about patrols? There are always patrols to be ran. Wolves to recruit.” Ira, himself, was a recruiter and when he wasn’t in Silvertip he was out scouring the lands for potentials — when he wasn’t with his girlfriend …back when his girlfriend used to come around that was.
