The Heartwood Edge control

Her tone is far from agreeable, to him; his face sours even more as she speaks. He tries--and fails--to see the merit in her argument, ending up shaking his head, the fur along his spine bristling. She clearly comes from a different understanding of loyalty than he. Even if they were on the same wavelength, there are flaws in her argument that she does not--or refuses to--see.

"I know nothing of any promises; I did not receive a comprehensive history lesson when I joined the pack," he responds, voice cooler and calmer than before. Where there once was fire, there was now only ice. "I did not need it. What I do know is that according to nature--" he apes her tone, a little nastily-- "you only need two wolves to start a family. Not an entire group of warriors."

Llewellyn rolls his shoulders, a gusty sigh escaping his lips. "Like I said before, I have no desire, nor time, to talk about traitors," he rumbles. He dips his muzzle at the stream. "Enjoy your fish."

Without another word, the golden prince turns tail and leaves, head held imperiously high. No minds were changed in the course of this conversation--how could they be? These were clearly two very different wolves with very different opinions of the world. So polarized were they that persuasion was all but impossible. Perhaps, one day, she would see the light, and return to Moonspear as a sort of reparation for the wrongs her chosen pack had done them.

Llewellyn was not confident of this outcome, so he instead forgets her entirely.