Lost Creek Hollow Who puts missiles in their lunch box?

terance stood beside arbiter, appearing a little solemn. his expression was grim, gaze narrowed into the small group of wolves that gathered. he didn't care if this was the fault of prey, or of easthollow, or anything else for that matter. terance blamed rannoch. rannoch for leaving. for taking half their pack. for kicking them to the curb. terance loved this forest with his whole heart -- this forest was his home just as his family was. and now they had to leave it, for another territory. his ear flicked.

arbiter did a majority of the talking, not that terance minded. he'd gotten much better at being able to articulate himself, but he still preferred to keep down. just listen. respond to comments. arbiter could handle the formality stuff, she was good at that. when she finished speaking, terance gave his mate a gentle nudge to the shoulder, then stood upright as the pack began to respond. at his side, pike stood stiff and tall -- terance gave him a quick glance, trying to decipher if he was holding his breathe or not, but a voice brought him back.

he gave the she-wolf a nod of his head, a warm smile of appreciation. he was glad to have to followers -- he hoped she was getting what she could from their pack. he wished he could promise that they would grow, become stronger. but after rannoch's leave, terance felt little confidence in anything except his family. 

beside him, he heard a little gasp of air as pike released the breath he was holding in.