Moonspear Every occasion, know I'm ready for the funeral

She remained silent all the while, listening, observing, and thinking. While she trusted the judgement of her leaders, she had never been one to let others think for her. She could be a good and loyal pack member while still retaining her sense of self, passing her own judgements and making her own calls. This is what she did now as she stood with Bronco and Desdemona, eyes lingering on the wolf that had come to their borders.

The man prostrated before Hydra, if not with his body then with his words, spinning ‘round and ‘round the topic, answering one question and ignoring another. It was as if a hose was on full blast and the boy had yet to find the spigot so that he may turn it off. It was so much, in fact, that Keres wondered if he was not trying to convince Hydra or Dirge of all this, but himself, as though his beliefs were a broken string of pearls that he sought to keep from spilling and scattering everywhere.

The begging, the “Please Hydra”, the attempts to convince the Queen of the Mountain, all of it sat wrong with the woman and it was now that words welled in her throat, finding her voice in the judgmental silence. Perhaps she spoke out of turn, but it was surely something that needed to be addressed, and perhaps, it was something that lingered in the back of all their minds.

 You are so quick to pledge your teeth to the mountain against those you have given your loyalty to. For if he was not loyal, why would he be here trying to form an alliance between the Spear and the Saints? Why would he be trying so hard? How are we supposed to trust that you have not also pledged those same teeth to the Saints should nothing come of this? A pause, and then she spoke again, the deeper question being asked. How are we supposed to trust you?