Stavanger Bay Doing everything I can to justify your arrogance

for a moment, wintersbane studies her; ebon with her strange markings of white as a ghost of an amused smile tugs at the edges of his lips as she mentions being tricked. wintersbane's never been good; always operating and choosing to live in the grays of the world with the assumption that nothing is ever so black and white. was there good in him? probably. he didn't murder cubs and he wasn't a cannibal, or any of the numerous other things that would ( to him ) make him 'evil'. but he was as a far cry from saintly.

general. warlord. strong titles; believable ...but they mean little to him. he, too, had plenty of credentials but none of the other packs he'd led have anything to do with what he's building in the herenow.

her past was her past and her future could be ironclan ...if she wanted it to be; but he wasn't going to beg.

i believe anyone can have the ironwill. wintersbane responds diplomatically. the bay, the creation of ironclan and their foothold on the coast would be testament to whether that holds true or not. it was not his call to make, especially not for someone he does not know but in name and credentials only.