Duskfire Glacier stone-age mind in a space-world age

Týrr had been present when the Glacier's true leader had let out a screech that she would kill them all, all who had threatened them. The chocolate cloaked Rekkr did not blame her, he, too was angry and desired to know why the women of the Sound had done this, had made this threat and grave mistake upon their borders — nevertheless unaware that Tuwawi thought it was the wrong pack. Yet, the Rekkr did not follow after her as she departed the scene, instead favoring to stay with his previous determination the same: he would protect what was precious to him, that he would protect the borders of the Glacier in the case that the perpetrator returned; if the trail was just a ruse. Time had begun to pass and though the culprit had yet to make a loop and return, Týrr began to grown anxious where he stood and had begun to pace, wearing a path in snow and dirt where his paws prints had begun to overlap one another — that was until Tuwawi's howl broke through the air. It's message was clear: it was a summons, and it gave the Rekkr a spark of hope that she would attempt to re-claim her throne. After all, it was only leaders that summoned the entire pack to him, and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine, despite the grim reminder that he paced near served as a putrid reminder of the threat that lingered upon them.

Týrr's pacing ceased and he made in the direction that his Queen's call rose from, coming upon the small gathering in as timely a manner as he could manage, having been a bit away from the Glacier's heart. Crystalline eyes touched Tuwawi first, lingering there for a moment before his gaze wondered to touch those that had arrived. Manauia captured the Rekkr's attention next, despite that the Amazon had left some distance between the group and herself. For a small moment he studied the Huntress before his gaze moved on, sweeping over the unfamiliar ebony female and touching last upon the ivory woman with the disturbing colored eyes. The one who had spoken of Tuwawi in a manner that had not initially earned the Rekkr's favor. His eyes narrowed as they observed her, his impressions of her lowered still by her retreat into the Glacier as if she were a mewling, suckling pup. The Glacier needed wolves who would defend her, not cower within the fortress and hope that the threat would magically go away. Still, the Rekkr kept silent, turning his attention to something he found much more pleasant, even though Tuwawi was seething.

Týrr understood and he would stand behind her without question, nor a blink of an eyelash, though the Rekkr's head whipped in the direction of the ebony woman who inquired as to what had Tuwawi riled up with a grin upon her face that made the Prince's hackles bristle at the end hairs though, quickly, he stopped himself before they could fully rise. In-fighting would get them no where. Had she not been there? Had she not seen what had been left for them? The ebony woman's words might not have been meant for him but he had heard, regardless. The woman had not been there, had not seen nor heard Tuwawi's reaction to finding it like he had, but even so. What else would it have been? "The cowardly threat of a rotting head left on our doorstep," The Rekkr responded coolly, patient despite how irritated her question and accordingly smirk made him.