What do

His brother dropped down beside him with what was a rather irrelevant observation given the circumstances, and Gryphon gave a sharp laugh. "Yes," he answered with a sour half smile. "I don't seem to have inherited Mother's coat. I'm assuming that I take after our father, whoever he is." But it didn't do to dwell on what couldn't be fixed, and surely his coat would catch up to the weather. This was a far more important conversation- though the yearling felt compelled to clear the air between them first. "I don't care that you are the heir," he started bluntly. "I don't want it. I don't think I would be any good at it even if I did want it. I think it's kind of pointless to have one right now anyway, but if anyone has to be heir it should be you. If something happened to Mother I don't want any of them thinking they can take over and make us play follow the leader." The distaste in his voice was plain as he thought of one of the newcomers appointing themselves alpha because of a lack of heir. He shrugged. "And I can't imagine Kharnage or Dragon being any better at it than me so it might as well be you. But that isn't why I wanted to talk to you."


His scowl deepened, twisting his earthen muzzle, and the pine green of his eyes blazed acidly in emotions that clearly mirrored his brother's. "We have a big problem, and frankly I don't know what to do about it."