the awful screaming of the lambs • pack meeting

The dark furred assassin lifted his head from the den he was creating on the island. So there it was, Lecter's call. Though the old man always had a weaker call compared to everyone else, it sounded more feeble, painful even. As if the madman was summoning all the strength he had left to summon the pack for perhaps, was the last time.

Diving into the water without a second thought, he dog-paddled his way towards the meetingplace, his heart heavy and threatening to drown him in the lake. Once he reached the shore, he didn't bother shaking his pelt, simply running towards Lecter.

As he expected, he wasn't the first to reach the old man. The scarred Sitri and tawny Mordecai, the two that usurped his and Cara's positions where there, along with the young yearling. He walked towards her, nodding at the higher-ranking pair solemnly before sitting by the young female.

Tentatively, he licked her cheek. It felt awkward for him, but the meaning was clear. He felt bad for her, no, he knew how she felt and was giving his condolences. Cara worshipped the white queen more than anyone else he knew besides Ira and Lecter. Her decent into madness was hard on everyone, but the worst effects were on the Beta and the Zeta. His icy gaze turned to the Beta then, tilting his head. "Greetings, Lecter." he murmured.