Worry wart express

*Tyranis* · 02-07-2019, 10:24 AM

Tyranis still reeled from the fight with his mother and had broodingly paced his pack border with a seemingly endless scowl as he mulled over who had told his mother of what went on behind Erövrare’s walls. At first he suspected Hannibal with his loud mouth and silver tongue and in the full throngs of outrage pictured a scenario where the pervert attempted to lure his mother into bedding him. He pushed the thought aside furiously and he began to question if Cloud could ever betray him so. The king supposed Cloud would have to have been disquieted with the reformed structure of his pack and told himself firmly that if that were the case Cloud would have said something. Belatedly he realized there was one other person who could have told his mother that he had started to take slaves, someone he had overlooked from Erövrare’s inception. Thora, his half sister, no doubt raised in the good natured ways of the Wreckages under his mother’s wing.

He broke away from his border and ran into the stark white woods, steeled determination on his features as he tracked his familial scent to his half sister’s den. As cold as he had become Tyranis couldn’t convince himself to be fully angry at the girl, she simply needed to learn the way of things in Erövrare, or at least hear whatever lies he told her to settle her into pack life with him. “Thora.” He called gently, his head turned downward as he stood at the mouth of his den. “Could I talk to you?” He asked mindful to keep his tone soft and soothing as if Thora were his own child.

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