Moonspear in mountains that are stacked with fear.

if you don't want an altercation, feel free to just write him missing her and have her skadoodle out of there! ˆˆ

”If loyalty to you means expecting me to never question a single decision you make, no matter how crappy, then you should just be glad that we’re leaving.” That made no sense to Charon, and obviously loyalty meant not questioning your Alpha; that went without saying to Charon, and he was only now beginning to realise that for some weird reason, for Liffey and Rannoch, it wasn't how things were. "You never said anything," he hissed in response, for to him, despite the tension he had felt, they had both remained respectful of him and they now suddenly dropped a leaving-bomb on him. He knew it was for the best, but he could not help but admit that it hurt that it was so sudden — that they'd say and do nothing, and now throw in his face that he was wrong to think that his members shouldn't question his decisions. How the fuck should he even know they were questioning his decisions if they didn't tell him in any way, except on their way out the door?

Soon these thoughts were forgotten though, sucked into the swirl that was caused by what she said next: ”And if your members decide to follow us instead of you, maybe you should consider why exactly that is.” "How dare you," he said in a low voice, accompanied by a twitch of his tail tip as indication of anger. "We took you in, we cared for you, and now you are here telling me that if my members leave, it isn't because you told them to, but because I should've magically known to do things differently while you schemed behind my fucking back!" He didn't know if any of that were true, of course — the 'stealing our members' things had been just an example at first, but the way that Liffey hooked into it and said that it was his own fault triggered him badly.

Midway through her bye-and-thanks-for-the-cookies sentence, just as she was getting up, Charon was fed up — he lunged forward, teeth bared, intending to grab whatever he could but aiming for her face, neck or scruff. Somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would humiliate. Somewhere that would make sure she wouldn't forget that if she ever stepped foot nearish to this mountain again, he would come and finish her.