Boartusk Heights fear cuts deeper than swords

The burly woman listened as Nyra offered information on her pack and their purpose in those lands. It sounded as though they were a rather rough crowd who had made a few enemies out of the locals. Even though she wasn’t likely to admit it to the woman beside her, Jupiter knew that she would probably not throw her name into their ranks. As much as she enjoyed a good fight, she wasn’t eager to cause problems where there weren’t any to begin with. The young girl was something of a solver; she’d throw her weight around to fix something, but she wouldn’t use her strength to start wars.
 
“Sounds like your pack has made a name for itself, eh?” she offered conversationally, flagging her tail behind her with a small smile toward the pale woman. Knowing that there was a large difference between what a pack was and what their end goals were, the large she-wolf eyed her companion from the edge of her silver gaze and tilted her head curiously toward the other.
 
“What are your goals then? For the future of your members?”
 
This would speak leagues more for Nyra’s pack than anything she’d offered up to that point. Knowing that their leader was a man who preferred the barbaric tendencies, Jupiter wondered if he was the type of figure who took what he wanted and dealt with the repercussions of his actions at another time. She’d found that men were surprisingly confident in that regard and was curious to know if this Deagon was cut from the same cloth.