Hideaway Strath Don't you know I'm no good for you?

Sorry for holding this up

His jaw feathered, debating whether to snap at Simmik or Whrist this time.
Damn women and their emotions.
And damn Kynareth for his emotions.

The pale wolf bristled and the ​one hewn from darker materials snapped back.
He watched, glad Zsuzsa wasn't about to throw herself into the fray too.
But it was obvious to Derg that whatever Whrist held against this Simmik, it was probably because she was taking up all the Grandmasters time.
He sighed softly, looking to Simmik, "Please, sit." A slightly apologetic tilt of the lips and he turned back to the two dark-sisters. 

"She's Kynareths emotional baggage, not mine, so you better ask him for the story. And as for food, she eats from his mouth, not ours." A glance to the pale woman, "besides, making her provide young will be a heavier burden than one of you two bearing them."
Indeed, getting the captive to have, bear, and nurse children against her will would be suitably futile. If they were so worried about the future of the pack they should lift their tail for Kynareth.
A teasing glint to his eye. The Overseer certainly wasn't interested.

"Perhaps you should get to know Hemlocke." There, the suggestion planted. Having Kynareth as a father would be utter hell he'd imagine. Hemlocke...seemed so much more suitable.