Manifest Destiny (old Glaciems)

So it was that despite a defeat, Gargoyle was still a Chief. He was still the one to make the hard decisions and bear the burden of keeping safe so many lives. It wasn't easy, truth be told, he'd had a moment there in the cave, before he'd learned of the rest of the pack's loyalty when he'd invisioned just himself and Ocena and their pups tucking themselves away into a favored rogue land, or maybe traveling, but always staying together just the five of them. It was in his blood after all, his own parents had spent many years as a rogue couple, and with the help of an orphaned niece whom they adopted as a daughter, they reared a little of five bouncing babies. It was a lovely dream, but a selfish one. There were still many wolves who depended on him. Who were there for him as he was there for them. As he always would be.

With the thoughts of family, and with all the changes, it was with a rather open heart that Gargoyle listened to the white wolf's words. He was still suspicious, certainly. He'd be an idiot not to want to vet a life long Tortugan. But he read no deception or malice in the old male's words. If anything, just weariness. He introduced himself by rank, not by name and informed Gargoyle that he had more family in the territory. A moment later he was asking for a place to stay. Not a pack - no he didn't want to be in the pack, he just wanted to remain in Tortuga. It was... an unorthodox request at best. But one that, surprisingly Gargoyle felt disposed to grant. He didn't answer right away though. In his mind he was sizing up the male before him. In a way, the creature reminded him of Crusade. An old warrior with the burden of time upon his back, one who cared for his family. And yet Gargoyle had no illusions as to what this male most probably did in his younger days. A wolf can hide from sheep, but not from other wolves. Gargoyle knew a killer when he saw one.

But whatever else the male might have been, what he was now was a father. He was just looking out for his pups. Gargoyle glanced down at the little fluffball between the stranger's paws. He could relate that to that.

When Gargoyle looked up again the male was opening his eyes and carrying on with a second order of buisness. Seemed Glaciem hadn't been the only one with rogue troubles. "Not long ago, one of our founding members met with a similar fate," Gargoyle rumbled quietly. "My Braves are always ready to rid the world of a monster. We have work to do with settling in, but then I'm sure a hunting party can be arranged." In this matter, it wasn't that Gargoyle was racing to help the old male, this was simply what his pack did. "As for the matter," he murmured. "It is a request I would not have granted once. To shelter a wolf is one thing, to let him inhabit your territory and bring nothing to your pack's table is another." He paused for a moment. "But we have recently been stripped of a home ourselves, and to do the same to other wolves-" the northern brute shook his head "Is the last thing we desire."

He glanced back at gathering of wolves, eyes flitting to Zanire, before he turned his lizard gaze back round to the white wolf. "I'll give you a trial period. You are free to stay, at the least, until your pups are weaned." Which in most cases meant til they were about six months or so. "So long as there have been no disputes between your family and mine, then perhaps the arrangement you suggest will work out just fine." As with all neighbors, they could end up being a help each other, or just content with ignoring the other. Only time would tell. It was much the same deal he had offered Zanire. It was hospitable, but, from the viewpoint of a pack leader, also wise.

As he spoke with the male, he was aware of vague, watched feeling. But of course he was being watched, he was the Chief in the center of his pack. Yet there was something else. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw some slip of a silver shadow, but when he glanced over, there was nothing there.