Whitebark Stream cerno

If Germanus thought him weak or foolish for his rules on breeding rights, Artyom did not care enough to scrutinise or press for an opinion. Whitebark Stream had survived for many months and, confident that it would thrive in those to come, he saw no reason to worry. If there was danger to possibly be faced in the far future when the children were grown, then there was no point in wasting time being concerned over the "what if"s he might have now. 

All he wanted was to give all of his pack's cubs the ability to live a full life for as long as they lived under his rule. A good life. He wanted them to be safe and happy, and want for nothing - that was what they deserved.

"Thank you," he said in response to the centurian's kind offer, though he hoped he would not burn himself out so soon. Still, Artyom did not wish to disrespect him with rejection. He hummed thoughtfully at his question of others nearby. "Easthollow to the South, where my mate was born. We would consider them to be our allies," he said, then looked toward the proud Sunspires, "and there is a pack in the vale within the mountains - Reneian Empire - who I would also consider friends of the stream. Legion is our closest neighbour," he carried on, "and their Alphess, Arbiter, is made of stone. She is not a bad wolf, but she is as tough as they come and can be stubborn. I'd say we are on more neutral terms, and share hunting grounds." He did not dive into detail of his past comradery with Lost Creek Hollow nor the circumstances of his departure, figuring that would be a conversation for a later date.