Arrow Lake for the only true Queen is the Night Queen

in all actuality, damien had every reason to be suspicious of the offer, if only because - no matter how well the warhound played the part of sincerity - stigmata was not really a generous wolf. he never went into anything without ulterior motives and a list of plans spanning the entire english alphabet, and as simply as he was making this whole trade-off appear, the meloniis would be correct if they suspected ill of the sandraudiga, even if he had no intention of acting on it for some time. he had whispered of such things to mahler, eager to have his kill-brother's support on all fronts.

an ear turned towards mahler now; even as he listened patiently to the shade's spiel and counted the things this male expected without offering anything of substantive return. they were a band of mercenaries, but no more or less useful to him than any other strays, and his outright announcing that they had not intention of aligning themselves fully into diaspora was sobering news.

if stigmata had any cheer left for this moment, it was gone now. he had expected their disloyalty, but not quite so blatantly. he had privately assumed that over time they would admit intentions of still fording their own claim, but this was... irritating. he swallowed his venom, but seemed to remain otherwise unaffected. though far sooner than anticipated, the declaration that they would only stay as long as they needed to, wasn't in of itself a problem.

what the unfamiliar mercenary demanded next, however, brought a cold air unto the scene. he did not ripple nor bristle, or move at all really, but a deathly stillness and focus overtook him - stopping even the light sway of his tail - and if damien thought stigmata had taken offense before, then he would know now what it truly felt like when the iron wolf seemed insulted. and the insinuation that they could be equals in this situation did nothing but insult him. the meloniis seemed to be under the impression they were needed, instead of wanted, and he saw no deal to be made with a so-called leader who was not inclined to show deference even when his legacy might very well depend on it. no wonder they had no followers - the wolf who led them was a greedy fool.

many questions and rallying condescension crossed his thoughts. "i think not," stigmata replied, slow and stiffly punctuated. he felt a need to be scathing and indignant, or violently demanding if words did not feel to be enough. but none of these things bubbled to the wraith's crackling surface, except one quiet and forceful edict. "leave," he said, unwilling to even entertain the notion of an equal on his land. "now."