Bearclaw Valley new beginnings

stigmata felt a stab of white-hot anger as laurel lashed her tongue at him like a whip and then turned her back to dismiss him entirely. no right? the hound's eyes swelled as he received the great indignity; every part of him straining to control his reaction. she was right in one aspect: he was not stupid enough to attack her, not when every tooth would have turned on him in the act. they were defeated and grieving, and he wasn't about to make himself a target for all of their pent-up angst.

but their leader was wrong on almost every other account. his complaints had been about their location, not their numbers, and he was far too confident to resort to filling into the ranks of some unknown entity when he knew very well that he could support himself and every wolf here could do the same for themselves. the young here were not infants. and this concession, to him, was foolhardy and inexcusably weak. if he had known his words would incite a migration into the helm of "friends" and leave those this had just been sprung on with the sting of basically a flippant "we don't care what you do," he wouldn't have said anything at all.

and this sort of treatment was fine for everyone else?

he looked madly, helplessly for support in the crowd. mona's face stuck out to him, contorted in a distaste he had not thought her capable of. a silent criticism for his timing. but if not now... if not when this was so abruptly decided, without discussion or regard for any of their followers... then when? when they had already been driven straight into the dark and off a cliff? sandraudiga wasn't interested in losing his name that way. he wouldn't be treated like he had no rights, when he had every single one of them.

the wolf felt himself ready to lash out, felt his need to resist this so firmly— that he felt almost startled when he met indra's gaze and remembered, with an intense flash of guilt, her accusations from not long before.

he was ready to abandon them on his principles. driven away, just as she had predicted.

it was the only thing that leveled him; her eyes demolished what emotions had been urging him to rebel, and for now, stigmata backed down. simmering rage carved a deep scowl into his features, and the wolf returned any response he had to the locked, blackened pit of his chest. he turned and disappeared, fuming like a put-out fire into the lonely depths of the abandoned valley.

an hour later, he reappeared, reluctant in his acquiescence, and following the group at a distance as they made their uneventful trudge to lost hollow creek.  

last 1 from me! my bad for not realizing this was supposed to be one round xD