Lion Head Mesa nor do poets

that is her. ingram replies in a low rumble; feeling no qualms about ratting her out to her enemies; but one could hardly expect anything less of a creature so willing to slaughter his own mother as if she were a docile lamb. to hear that this nyra and her ilk killed the queen of ursus explained the motive behind the brewing war. though he had not initially been looking to involve himself, with the support that a pack would offer ( shelter and food among the top of ingram's list ), he feels a giddy sort of eagerness to repay the debt he owes.

blood was not so high of a price.

would his shadow be proud ...if she could see him now?

in the interest of keeping the skulking scowl he feels creeping up like a flush off of his face, ingram restricts those thoughts with a fierce force.

she left. she left him ...this was survival.

she is very arrogant. ingram remarks though his opinion was not asked ... and in such department he had no leg to stand on.

take whatever they offer.

easy enough.

learn to be swift.

with little more warning than the words offered, merrick lunges for him. caught unawares — and horrified he'd let his guard slip so easily — ingram is not swift enough to evade the lunge. but he does not cower. he lets out a rough breathy snort, a bit like an angry bull, and bares his teeth; hesitating ...unsure if he is meant to engage or not.