Swiftcurrent Creek hexing circles

For a man who had spent most of his short life alone, Swordfish was overwhelmed by the number of wolves who looked at him with vitriol expressions. The brother spoke. Etienne had the gall to puff himself up, make himself seem like the rightful protector. And it took a great deal of self restraint to keep from turning his fangs on the bastard and giving him a few scars to think about speaking to Swordfish like that. Instead, he ignored Etienne. The heavy-lidded gaze shifted over him with a forced unimpressed look before he shifted his focus to the leaders. 

Jus' tell her I'm here. I ain't lookin' fer trouble. I'm tryin'. I came here, didn't I? Didn't even know 'bout her bein' pregnant until I got the message. 

But if he had to wait a week, he would wait. They wouldn't force him to become Njord. They couldn't make him become absent. It did not matter if he had pledged himself to Swiftcurrent once before. He would not allow them to block him from his own children. They had no right. 

As Akavir requested to speak to Lestan, Swordfish regarded his companion with a heavy stare. Something in his chest twisted. He'd spent a good deal of time with the other man. Some form of attachment had grown. Maybe even dependency. 

I'll wait fer ya here, Lestan, he drawled.