Firestone Hot Springs Wandering crow

There were too many demons screaming and clawing in his head, in his heart, agitating the wound that Tyrannus had left upon him, causing it to fester every time Crete gained a small sliver of hope that he was letting go of it. Crete’s inherent problem was he thought too much, saw too much. His gift was in reading others, and typically Crete had learned to trust his gut instinct and sense of judgment. Usually, he was right. Not always, of course, no one was perfect but he was extremely perceptive. Perhaps it was the fact that he was mute, or maybe it had nothing to do with his disability at all. It wasn’t as if he would ever really know why he was perceptive when it came to much of the world around him, he simply was. The demons within were not particularly something he wanted to face, admittedly, yet at the same time Crete understood that they would need to be dealt with before he could make any sort of decision on his future and Blacktail Deer Plateau -- if he didn’t manage to get his ass kicked out first, that was. He got the feeling that Hawkeye wasn’t exactly pleased with him. All he had done was voice his concerns - in Crete’s manner of voicing anything - and she had not approached them as an Alpha should have. Though if her dislike of him came because he was not blinded by her, and panting after her as his brothers were, or because she did not like what troubled him about her, he couldn’t be sure.

Not every wolf was going to automatically agree with her just because she was the Alpha.

Shaking his head of the dangerous thoughts that consumed him, tucking them away to a dark corner of his mind to be drawn upon at a later date. He had company now. Not that Crete would consider himself good quality. She stood at his urging, and contended the Redleaf-DiSarinno man took a step back, giving a bubble of space between them once more. She apologized for running into him, and he shook his head in an attempt to communicate that she didn’t need to apologize. Everything was fine. She introduced herself, adding that he could use one of two nicknames that she rattled off to him. At that, Crete offered her a soft, sad smile. He couldn’t call her either, but in his head -- though he was partial to calling her ‘Blue’ for some random reason. I would if I could, The thought resounded through Crete’s mind, and his lips parted pushing out breath as his lips moved to the soundless words he had previously thought. He had no other way to tell her that he was mute than attempt to talk. It was as futile as it was every other time Crete had ever tried to vocalize.

table by houkie