Bearclaw Valley he is the bane of mortals

Moonspear.

He racked his brain for the name, discovering quickly that it was an entirely unfamiliar group; if he’d ever encountered one of their members or heard about them in the past, he couldn’t remember. Southwest. Depending on how long they’ve been around, perhaps he should have at least heard their name in passing once or twice, but he hadn’t; goes to show just how involved he was in the affair of the woods back then.

There was little that could be obtained from their meeting, not that he’d really been expecting a lot. “That’s fine,” he said. Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he wanted any alliances—not this early in his reign, anyways. If there was anything that he knew about alliances, it was that either side could request the other to join them in battle, should their assistance be needed. And whilst this could be a good thing, Alexander wasn’t interested in it. If his pack were to come under fire, he wanted to be the one to take them on, to prove to those backing him that he was strong enough to both protect and guide them. It was incredibly stupid, really, but he was too arrogant to see the flaws in his mindset.

Saying, “I’ve never heard of Moonspear,” was his way of accepting the offer. “Tell me about it,” he continued. “And then I’ll tell you about my pack—Bearclaw Valley.” It felt kind of strange saying that, he wouldn’t lie, but it also felt amazing. If only his parents could see him now, representing their old home together—surely, they’d be proud.