Redsand Canyon mastered from the souls of pain and heartbreak

He gave her a small smile. They needed more warriors, more wolves skill enough to help train the pack.
He nodded slightly. He needed to train more.
Renard showed him that, though he did already know.

He wondered why she was dying -- was it Nemisis, or someone else? Who had fought her and given her wounds so great? He doubted it would be Nemisis if she was here.
Alas, he wouldn't dwell on it. There were many dangerous wolves in the Teekons.

But for a leader to chase off a medic? His brows furrowed. A tall tale, or simply a case of being led by a complete idiot? Of course, he didn't know the full story.
He watched the silver warrior, the cogs turning in his mind.
"I'm sorry for the pack's loss," he mused, should it be even worth it. Probably not, but he'd spoken now.
His eyes flicked away, looking to he trees peeking over the northern ridge of the canyon.
He wished it had good trees here. Perhaps he was yet to find them.

He gave a short yawn, a high pitched whine as he did so.
"Sorry," he mumbled, licking his lips. Rather rude of him, but he really needed to sleep a little more.