Bramblepoint know who you are

First Rose, now Tryp.

Cypress wasn’t altogether comfortable with the way their band of three had already become a band of four, and his expression was dubious as he looked from Rannoch to Rian and back again. “Five,” he muttered under his breath, his cryptic comment drowned out by Rian’s startled, “What?”

The air crackled with tension that Cypress, perhaps influenced by his more dominant peers, had finally come to understand in full. He noted the jade-eyed O’Malley’s fierce stare and Rannoch’s answering turquoise one, and he stood down accordingly as befitted his role. Sulphureous eyes didn’t fixate on any one thing; they were soft and pliant, drifting from Rian to Rannoch in an unobtrusive way. A wolf with a softer heart might have tried to smooth over the situation and ease the way, but the occasionally pragmatic eidolon knew that these outbursts had to happen if they were going to move forward. To cast his opinion would be folly, for he couldn’t make a choice without offending at least one of his brothers, so he kept his mouth shut. He agreed with Rannoch to some degree, but doubted Tryp’s true hunting ability; he agreed with Rian to some degree, but didn’t particularly think it mattered if anyone was looking for the silver-saddled stranger.

What bothered Cypress about Tryp was the same thing that had initially bothered him about Rose — he just didn’t know them well enough to want to lay down his life for them, and he believed that accepting them into whatever this was meant he ought to be willing to do exactly that. He wanted to see the potential new recruit in action, would settle for that in lieu of deep and abiding trust, but he decided to reserve this opinion until Rian and Rannoch had sorted things out.