fire and ice

The sigh that the Alpha female gave was caught by a triangular ear that twitched back before it rotated back to it’s partner’s position of alertness atop his skull. Hawkeye spoke of wanting to know what Flightless Falcon had been like, and even if Crete could have spoken he was not sure he would have been able to summon words that were accurate enough to describe it. Aether and March Owl had been a team, a true force of nature that was one to be reckoned with. Their pack mates seemed happy. It had been a good place to live. Until Tyrannus had ruined it to Hell, of course. Ears slicked back to the mute’s skull when Hawkeye butchered Tyrannus’ name. No matter how deeply his betrayal had cut Crete, it didn’t matter if Tyrannus did deserve to be thought badly of by wolves who did not know him, Tyrannus was still his brother and there was a part, albeit a small part of Crete that would always love him; despite what he had done to their pack and family in the wake of Aether’s death. For Peregrine to call him names was one thing (they were brothers after all) but Crete did not like her calling him names. Fur at his nape bristled slightly as muzzle wrinkled back slightly to state his dislike of her calling him that. Tyrannus, Crete mentally stated though knew she could not hear him. Of course, he considered that she might have honestly gotten them confused and it may have been a mistake - of which he would seek her forgiveness. Interpretation of tone was imperfect, and harder for Crete to question without jumping to unfair conclusions.

Crete’s head rose - not in challenge but in order to study her instead - when she apologized for bringing up things, and further stated her pity. Crete could not speak (oh irony) for Peregrine or Atticus but he, himself, did not want pity. Not from her - not from anyone. It was unfortunate. It was painful; but it was just another circumstance he had been given and he was making due with what he had. Crete shook his head slowly, back and forth, I don’t want you to feel bad for me. Redleaf-DiSarinno’s were nothing if not persevering in nature. Life didn’t usually go as planned, Crete had learned this from his parents and his own experiences. One could weep over them, or they could readjust their plans and trudge forward.

table by houkie