Stone Circle ; all have been led astray

Merrit listened with an objective mind - or as much of one as he could offer. In truth, he already had his opinion fixed. The russet girl - Oath - she did nothing but dig her pit even deeper. Starving or not, he struggled to conjure any sympathy for her; if desperation drove her to this, then he understood why no one would receive them. The raven had very little experience with company beyond Easthollow, but he imagined her tactless decisions would be met with hackles raised and teeth bared by any wolf in their right mind. Maybe this was why he found himself surprised at Greyback's firmness with her, and he cast his gaze sidelong and caught the Patriarch's with the quirk of a brow and a glimmer of surprise.

Interesting.

He could not agree with the conclusion Greyback reached on Goosie's plea. His decision was too light, too easy, too gracious. How would these wolves learn, if they faced no consequence for their actions? His displeasure showed in the frown of his mouth. Words collected, and formed in his mind, but did not spill along the length of his tongue.

Mother came before he had the chance.

She was fearsome in her approach; he had never seen mother as riled up as now, and he felt her energy crack along the length of his sternum. The raven dipped his head and sidestepped in a willing gesture for his mother to take her place at the helm.

He cast an even look at Greyback when mother aired her pointed displeasure, as if daring him to speak; the decision had been his, after all - and maybe this would break them.

The thought startled him, its ugliness, and his cheeks flooded with a flash of heat. He didn't want that - did he? Yes - no, no! His words came quicker than he could think; an attempt to shoulder some of the blame - yet his desires waged war within him. "These rogues trespassed. I intercepted them, but - I'm sorry mother. I did not know what to do with them," and he faltered; he could offer no more; his tongue felt thick, and he turned his watch back to Greyback, unbreaking, yet stinging with the briefest sliver of guilt when he met the elder's face.