The Sunspire I should be wiser.

Rannoch didn't look anything like the version the boy had created in his mind. Sure he was big and strong, but he looked like he had been deflated somewhat since the events earlier. It was evident that he had been crying and that alone made Screech slow to acquiesce to the leader's request; it wasn't right for someone to be so emotional when they were in control — or supposed to be. Apparently according to Screech, leaders were meant to be powerful, stalwart, and empty.

But he came closer, making sure not to stare too intently at Rannoch's face. He ended up settling near to the older wolf and sank upon his haunches, his ears alert but the rest of him seemingly detatched. He didn't know what to say to Rannoch at this point and, not wanting to sever whatever thin thread kept Screech in his good graces still, he chose to remain mute. Maybe that was his petulant side showing. Either way Screech didn't want to be the one to broach the subject of Redshank — he was thinking of all the things he could say instead.