King Elk Forest Seeking refuge

“Brienne!” Mato snarls at her, his teeth snapping at her retreating form in warning and in an effort to assert his dominance, fur bristling as he comes across the scene, catching the last bits of her snipe at the loner that is looking to join. She is gone before he can full blown scold her but if she thinks that means he will not seek her out after he is finished here then she is sorely mistaken. She will get her attitude under control, he thinks, or she will leave. He has no tolerance for that sort of behavior and just because she is angry with him does not give her the right to take it out on anyone else. He offers an apologetic look to Gracious and the loner. “Brienne speaks with a jurisdiction and authority she does not have,” and after what he’s seen today he is glad he had never promoted her to rule at his side as his queen. “Only leadership have the power to accept or decline loners at our borders.” He clarifies, in case that was, in any shape or form, forgotten.

“I am Mato, the Morwinyon.” The starlit king offers in a way of greeting; colder than he means it to be but he unbearable angry and frustrated as to what he witnessed. He is not sure if this conversation is, in any way, salvageable but he is yet going to try. “She is right on a single thing, though. As it currently stands we have an imbalance in our ranks as they are mostly counselors and medics as their primary trades,” He hates to put a damper on which trades wolves can claim or not ( as it goes against Tindómë’s founding values ) but they need some balance in their ranks. “Are there any other trades you know? Or perhaps would be willing to learn?” Mato inquires of the stranger.