I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it

With laurels won, the time to rest and prepare for solidifying their conquest had come. The former pack's members who'd fled must be contained and offers must be made, but even the Abraxas were after all was said and done in mortal forms and superior as they were they too needed rest, and he'd finally taken the time for his. Apollo had not bothered to make a den within these conquered lands but rather had simply found a dry and quiet place beneath a willow to sleep. These lands did not suit his tastes at all, with the constant wet and the brackish waters of the other territory. He supposed these willows could probably have been considered pretty, but the place was not at all defensible nor suitable for dens. It was little wonder they'd been so easy to invade. Surely a good solid rain would flood those streams right into any den too close by.

The quiet didn't remain so for long either, with voices intruding upon his restful state. Gold eyes slitted open and pale ears pricked forward, though he did not yet move from his prone position. Voices were picked out and identified, Abraxas and stranger, and he finally uncoiled to rise to his paws. He did not like the content of the chattering he was catching, and moved the short distance to reveal himself to those gathered. "My brother speaks truly," he rumbled. "Amon will want to speak with these prodigal children. They belong to the pack he has claimed and are therefore his to decide what to do with." He sent a bland warning glance toward the paler form of the brother in question though, not entirely trusting Kaine to behave himself. While it was certain that they need contain the fleeing members until Amon decided what to do with each of them, they certainly did not need to overplay their hand with wanton cruelty unless it was called for, and an unfortunate number of their family did seem to slide into that quite gleefully. Not to say that he did not approve of strong measures when they were required, but until they solidified their hold upon this world they could not afford a lot of loose cannons rolling about doing as they pleased and risking everything.

The two older strangers, neither of whom bore even the faded remnants of Dragoste scent nor the obvious genetic stamp of the former alpha as the yearlings did, were fixed with a far cooler stare. A pair of loners running amok telling who knew what tales could be a dangerous thing if they were allowed to remain near these borders poking about and speaking to the Dragoste members who had not yet been dealt with. "Unless you intend to find yourselves serving the Abraxas, I suggest you leave our borders. Immediately." Ivory teeth flashed briefly beneath the gray streak of color that smudged the top of his muzzle, the warning clear though he did not show further aggression than that. Simply watchfulness. "We will not tolerate interference in pack matters from loners."