Broken Antler Fen tossed in a cell to feast with the fleas

“Hydra, mostly,” he said with a shrug. “I dabble on occasion where need be, but for the most part she has the drive and prowess to play liaison.” She had been born into it from what he knew, ever present when her parents did their dealings with neighbors and wayfarers alike. Though Charon he had never seen as a diplomat; Amekaze was the wolf he always thought handled such things with more finesse and grace than her speckled counterpart.

It was very much the same way between he and Hydra, only he did not think that his arrogance and ambition had consumed him. Content with being a listening ear and a guiding force, it had always been wiser for him to play his cards much closer to the chest than any other. So far, that had worked out in his favor, as he had both approval of his subordinates and retained their trust as much as he did his wife.

“I’ve come to discover that I don’t care much for the politics,” he admitted then to Keres, his gaze distant on some point along their path. “But it does beat the alternative of acting like warmongers rattling out of caves and clicking our teeth together when things turn sour.”