Redhawk Caldera Damocles

The closer things got to actually happening, the more he'd wished that he'd heard nothing of it.  Why had the sort of trouble he'd left drawn him to it again?  Unlike others in the pack, he felt like he had virtually no personal skin in the game, other than risking himself in exchange for a place to stay.  Ugh. --- And this was without him knowing a thing about what had gone on with Titmouse and Gannet and the Moonspear wolves, which would likely cause him to just peace out and take his chances.

Honestly, he was tempted to leave before the blood was drawn, and with him down on the lower slopes, it was actually kind of tempting.  There was a fight going on between his innate loyalty and his desire to not get himself killed over someone else's squabbles.  For now, though, he walked. It was cold, midday, and snowy.  It fit his mood pretty well, and about how he saw the world treating him in general.

This was stupid.  He was stupid.