Bearclaw Valley and he sings to me real low

At least she'd eventually worked out Redshank and Screech or whoever were different people.  Redshank.  He charged across well-marked and guarded borders, wanting to kill our alpha, who is probably twice his damn size.  He didn't even get close, and it was all over some spite in his own head.  He's just that stupid, and now he's your problem.  And she was sure that if it really was him still alive, he probably had wormed his way into a pack out of pity as well.  He certainly hadn't seemed to be good at hunting (given his scrawny figure), seemed to give up instead of fight, so what would he actually be good for?  A servant like Joss?  Either way, they could have fun and keep him.  It should be obvious if he comes by again, I will not play nice.  A quick upward flick of her brows.  It wasn't worth her time to go hunt him down -- dealing with him hiding in another pack was just way too much political effort for her.

Either way, since he wasn't there to actually chew on, she shifted the subject to something else.  Is your pack new? It isn't one I recall.  She'd shifted slightly back towards the more inquisitive way she'd started this encounter.  Treason still had questions she wanted answered, but she wasn't going to show her hand.  She was just some average pack wolf, right?  Not a leader asking after another man who she didn't trust...