(Set directly post the leg break, Crux is on an extraction mission)

He was on a fucking war path. It was probably the most intimidating Crux had ever looked in his life. Not even his usual uneven gait seemed to slow him down much right now. He was beelining his way to his brother. One way or another he was getting Stratum out. He hoped Andy and Charlie would see what to him had always been so obvious but he wasn't going to let either of them stop him. His nephew had just proven he couldn't be trusted, not with them. Everyone else could make their own decision but the sound of Kite's leg, it snapping under his nephew's jaws... It was much too familiar for him to feel safe here ever again. And if Crux, someone who had spent his whole life learning how to function with his leg as it was, didn't feel safe then it absolutely wasn't safe for his stubborn ass of a brother, who had barely even started learning how to cope.

And frankly he was in no mood to argue about it right now. It had taken all his self control not to be even more vitriolic to his nephew. So Stratum could chose to keep his nose or not but Crux would not be bothering to bargain. "Peabody, Pebble, help me please." He spoke as he stormed into his brother's den. "Azure Jr. just broke Kite's leg. I'm not letting anyone hurt my siblings the way our brother did ever again." He finally looked at his brother, his tone wasn't angry but he was clearly a man on a mission. "We're leaving. Now."

"Speech!"

Art & Code © Skelle 2022

Was he moping? No, absolutely not. He was simply.. Well. He was moping a little. There were a lot of emotions tied to his father retiring, especially retiring to the other end of the world. Where their mother had died. Those facts took a lot of time to work through, and he wasn't about to start now. He'd heard the new Warlord's call, summoning the pack to discuss the change in leadership. Stratum hadn't been in the mood to haul his ass that far from the comfort of his den just to hear about how his nephew was going to do this, or that, or promote his mate, or whatever. So he curled up on his admittedly luxurious bed of furs and fleeces, and pulled one of them over his head. The awkward lumps of his horns were no more of an indicator of his presence than the sheer size of him hidden away in the corner, nearly three hundred pounds of wolf didn't exactly disappear under one fur. So when his brother came in at approximately Mach Jesus, calling out for Stratum's companions to help him, the giant knew he was in trouble. Perhaps if he didn't move, he could keep hiding away in his bed. However, once the words "broke Kite's leg" escaped his brother's mouth, he was up. Forcibly shaking the fur off of his head, then detangling it from his horns, and then stumbling towards the other male. The furrow in his own brow only deepened when he saw the storminess of Crux's expression. Oh, they were angry. They were supposed to be furious about this. His lip curled reflexively as a hint of protective fury tripped up his spine. It took a moment for the demand to progress from ear to brain, and for his adrenaline-riddled brain to digest the information. Leaving? "Where?" he couldn't help balk at the notion. They had been born here, this was all that they knew. Well, it was all Stratum knew. He'd been perfectly content to linger close to home- their first trip abroad hadn't exactly gone swimmingly. "Is Kite coming with us? Charlie? Andy?" there was a subtle impact against the right side of his neck, a small bat finding his perch there as usual. Stratum's hackles were up, he was beginning to bristle with barely contained emotion. A rare sight indeed. His gunmetal eyes flickered around the den, trying to figure out what would happen with his things. He'd gathered up so many of them over the years. Without thinking, he limped to the alcove of his bed and reached for a pair of well-worn leather cuffs, tying them frantically over his forelegs so they wouldn't be forgotten. "Catch me up here, Crux. What the hell happened out there?" he growled, brushing the dust from his travelling gear- the harness and its accoutrements had been crafted in a more optimistic time, when all of his legs had functioned. Regardless, he was the sturdiest one here, and he would be a pack mule for his siblings any day. He worked quickly to toss anything important or useful into the various pouches on the harness.

Frankly Crux hadn't expected to find his brother in any state that wasn't a form of moping but he'd admit to being a little surprised watching his brother practically come alive after he explained what had happened to their sister. He turned to the Pangolin as his brother seemed to get himself disentangled from his furs and gave the little guy a few things he could help grab from Crux's den since Riya had already headed off after Kite. Sure it wasn't exactly gonna be a quick job for him but some help was better than none and Crux wanted them to get out as quickly as they could. He looked at Stratum as his brother finally joined the world of the living. He grimaced as Stratum lobbed several questions his way, and the truth was Crux didn't have many good answers, he'd entered survival mode and was moving rather than planning for one of the only times in his life.

Crux took a breath, trying to order his thoughts so he could at least explain things to Stratum. "We saw Dad off and basically as soon as he was out of sight Kite challenged Basilisk for the pack. It's possible it was motivated by a grudge, I don't know. But Basilisk took it too far, I get defending himself but he had Kite's leg in his mouth and he just-" He was getting worked up and stopped to calm himself down a bit. "He snapped it and she bolted." He looked at his brother with a gaze hardened with all the bullshit he'd dealt with in his short life and a determination to never let that shit fly again. "I don't know if it was an accident and I don't care. If he can't control himself enough not to snap someone's bones then we are not safe. Kite's had more than her fair share of limbs broken by wolves who are supposed to be 'family.' Either way he's not safe and I'm not letting anyone hurt me or my siblings anymore if I can help it."

He turned to look around at Stratum's stuff, searching for anything that'd be useful to make sure his brother didn't miss them. "As for Charlie and Andy... I don't know. Charlie decided to defend Bas and Andy's playing the good little peace maker. I'll talk to them later, try to make them understand how we don't get the luxury of giving our nephew the benefit of the doubt. I don't know where we'll go, but for now I'm more concerned about making sure we're both safe and finding Kite so I can set her leg." The look Crux threw at his brother again was one that dared him to push back against what he was suggesting. Charlie and Andy were... Sore spots. He was still kinda pissed at Charlie, even if he was pushing down the guilt he felt for the things his brother had said that had been true, he also had no fucking clue what it was like. To just want to spend time with your brother and instead feel the way his gaze slid to your paws, the way he watched like a hawk. Charlie didn't understand how damn humiliating it was to be babied by his own litter mate when all Crux had wanted was to just be.

"Speech!"

Art & Code © Skelle 2022

A flurry of movement and a litany of curses strung together under his breath, all the while he was mindlessly shoving things that caught his attention into his bags. Some of the tinctures and salves that he'd been given while he was healing, rolls of bandages. He tipped an ear backwards to listen as his brother explained the series of events that had brought him stomping into the den. Dad was off to Auster, Basilisk was celebrating his ascension to the throne, and Kite was pissed. In all honesty, that was all within the scope of what he'd expected for the day. Kite challenging for the Warlord's title? Not.. wholly out of character. She wanted to be strong, powerful. She wanted to prove herself an equal to anyone and everyone in the pack, almost to spite the ex-Warlord. In any other context, hearing that a leg had been broken in the struggle for a pack wouldn't have raised a brow. That was an unfortunate reality of the violence that was so readily wrought between living creatures. Yet, to know that their cousin, who had been groomed to take over by their sire and imparted the wisdom of the Armada as a whole for so long, had been the one to break his sister's leg.. well, it got his hackles up. A low growl rumbled in his chest, though he didn't falter from his task. The boy should have known better. For a brief moment, he considered the reality of the situation- Kite would have fought until the death, if her pride depended on it. Would have kept coming at Bas, unrelenting. Perhaps... No. He shook his head. There was no reason for that to escalate so quickly. When it came to how Charlie and Andy were taking the situation, that was too much to think about. He was fresh out of brain cells to devote to socio-politics within his own family. Did it hurt his feelings a bit? Definitely. Was he going to worry about that? Nope. Had to get packed, get out with Crux, and head after Kite to help get that leg set. The gilded giant looked to the picked-clean shelves of his den. The den he'd worked so hard to make his own, the only place he really knew. His den. That... he was about to leave behind. Would they return? That was a concern to address later. He flipped the last strap into place on his packs, heaved them across his back. "Peabody?" he called, mercurial gaze flicking to and fro until it landed on the shuffling form of his pangolin companion, returning with the odds and ends that he'd been sent to retrieve. "C'mere bud, we're out of here." he announced, hobbling his way over to scoop his friend up and add him to the pile of stuff slung over his back. Peabody was slower than they were, even as a pair of three-legged wolves. Pebble was hardly a burden, worn easily like a little hat between his ears with hardly enough weight to register against his skin. He looked to his brother, expression grim and eyes a little watery. "I'm with you, Crux. Lead the way." he rumbled quietly, without an ounce of hesitation. "Kite first, or a place to camp?" he questioned as he stepped out of his den for the final time. His den was on one of the lowest layers of tunnels, which was a blessing in this moment. They could make a break for the borders without raising too many alarms from the sentries, though it sounded like there was enough chaos within the ranks at the moment that the guards may have left their posts. They'd be fine. Even if they had to shove their way out of the Armada today.