Your white room; straight jacket
Rory had come home some time ago with a prisoner. A former loner that had done despicable acts against one of their own. Granted he thought that rainbow kid was the most annoying thing on the planet (and he found a lot of things pretty annoying), not even she deserved what the cur had done to her. And yet, he was in Lirim lands. Zell would have been all too happy to lock him in a cave and starve him to death. After all, it would have been slow and he was sure desperation would have clawed at the mutt. But he wasn't an alpha. He couldn't do things the way he wanted, and that was fine...for now. As he came back into the territory from a failed hunt, he cursed under his breath when he heard the howl of an unfamiliar. It was haunting, almost challenging and seemingly calling for trouble. It was also someone he didn't recognize, and at this point, he knew everyone that was in the pack. So that left one wolf.
His course would take him towards the location where their prisoner was held, and he'd arrive just in time to find Rory walking up to him. Ears twitched, the huge male sizing up the pathetic excuse for a wolf, blue eyes narrowed and glittering coldly. "Why kill him right away when you can make him suffer along his journey to his death." He growled, stopping next to his son. His eyes never left Forsaken, though he managed to keep a rather calm composure. Where the hell was Faite when they needed her? He wasn't sure what she would do in this sort of situation, but he would try his hardest to keep things together and support his son while she was away. He had dwelled too much on her being gone, it was time to come out of the woodwork and do his part around here. "I say we slowly rip away what makes him a male, though that's just one thing he deserves." |
