Don't be a dik-dik
09-28-2017, 06:57 AM
OOC: takes place during the raid
Most of the pack had left for the north some time ago, leaving a skeleton force behind - including Gryphon. Gryphon, whose new rank itched and rankled at him. He had never been as prone to emotion as his littermates tended, though, or at least not in quite the same way, so instead of sulking about it he was throwing himself into what he considered his true job, and a rather more important one than running off to bite other packs - feeding Talis. The wolves who had been left behind were not, for the most part, the most useful of the wolves. Some blind, some untrained. Most of the healers had gone with the fighters to await the raid's results, too, so there were very few of any ranking wolves remaining.
Among the wolves other than Gryphon were some of his mother's younger litter. Even the thought of them still made his face wrinkle in aversion. He had regarded his mother's former mate with distaste and distrust, as well he should have since it turned out that he had caused a great deal of trouble for them before he finally died. He had begun the rift that the bitch Mercy had merely widened between Lykos and the rest of the family, between Gryphon and his family, and he could not help but view Vereux's children through the same lens. He had had a great deal to do with raising them, after all, and the only one of them he had closely met had not raised them in his esteem, spoiled crybaby little brat that she'd been. Still, he could not help but think uneasily of his mother's accusations when he had sought to claim the right to lead their family. That he would treat them no better than Dragon or Avalon had treated Lykos.
Dark ears flattened to his earthen-brown head as Gryphon stalked through the plains. He wasn't his mother, nor his brothers, to do something of that sort. He simply wasn't. But he had to admit to himself that his actions did nothing to reflect that, and after a great deal of self-reflection he had decided he couldn't really blame his mother for assuming that. Well, he could, because it was all of a same piece as her assuming that Lykos was a traitor and reacting so harshly, but logically he had done nothing to give anyone any different impression.
He'd been avoiding the area around the castle more than usual since his confrontation with his family, even now when most of them were gone. He'd never cared for the structure, but since most of the pack seemed to den up there it seemed all the more reason to avoid it. It was easy enough in the course of his duties to avoid it anyway. It wasn't, after all, like he was going to find a dik-dik roaming the corridors or a tapir lying in repose in the great hall. So here he was, moving through the long grass of the plains, searching, as always, for the pack's next meal, even as he sought to sort out some of those mental tangles he'd been left by his life's recent events.
Most of the pack had left for the north some time ago, leaving a skeleton force behind - including Gryphon. Gryphon, whose new rank itched and rankled at him. He had never been as prone to emotion as his littermates tended, though, or at least not in quite the same way, so instead of sulking about it he was throwing himself into what he considered his true job, and a rather more important one than running off to bite other packs - feeding Talis. The wolves who had been left behind were not, for the most part, the most useful of the wolves. Some blind, some untrained. Most of the healers had gone with the fighters to await the raid's results, too, so there were very few of any ranking wolves remaining.
Among the wolves other than Gryphon were some of his mother's younger litter. Even the thought of them still made his face wrinkle in aversion. He had regarded his mother's former mate with distaste and distrust, as well he should have since it turned out that he had caused a great deal of trouble for them before he finally died. He had begun the rift that the bitch Mercy had merely widened between Lykos and the rest of the family, between Gryphon and his family, and he could not help but view Vereux's children through the same lens. He had had a great deal to do with raising them, after all, and the only one of them he had closely met had not raised them in his esteem, spoiled crybaby little brat that she'd been. Still, he could not help but think uneasily of his mother's accusations when he had sought to claim the right to lead their family. That he would treat them no better than Dragon or Avalon had treated Lykos.
Dark ears flattened to his earthen-brown head as Gryphon stalked through the plains. He wasn't his mother, nor his brothers, to do something of that sort. He simply wasn't. But he had to admit to himself that his actions did nothing to reflect that, and after a great deal of self-reflection he had decided he couldn't really blame his mother for assuming that. Well, he could, because it was all of a same piece as her assuming that Lykos was a traitor and reacting so harshly, but logically he had done nothing to give anyone any different impression.
He'd been avoiding the area around the castle more than usual since his confrontation with his family, even now when most of them were gone. He'd never cared for the structure, but since most of the pack seemed to den up there it seemed all the more reason to avoid it. It was easy enough in the course of his duties to avoid it anyway. It wasn't, after all, like he was going to find a dik-dik roaming the corridors or a tapir lying in repose in the great hall. So here he was, moving through the long grass of the plains, searching, as always, for the pack's next meal, even as he sought to sort out some of those mental tangles he'd been left by his life's recent events.