Foul Temper

"Whatever my alpha commands." She was done arguing with him. If he couldn't have a little faith in her abilities, then she wouldn't waste those abilities on him. When they were cold and destitute, on the brink of starvation, it wouldn't be her fault. Her gaze had gone cold. She truly was finished with the conversation. "Rest your leg or you may not regain full use of it." Sliding her muzzle into her pack, she rummaged around the herbs. Taking out some white willow bark, she placed it before him. It would help with the pain. He needed to stay off of his leg and he needed sleep. Sleep, he would have to find on his own.

"I have a lot to do. If you need me, Marshal or Bast can find me." Turning, she padded away. There was hunting to be done. Herbs to be collected. Borders to be marked. She had been extremely busy lately and it was beginning to wear upon her nerves. Constant activity coupled with her neverending insomnia... and she was just as irritable and volatile as Sirius had just been. Perhaps they could speak in a more civil manner later. For now, nothing would be accomplished. Not with both of them in the foul moods that they were in.

Turning around a palm, she was gone from view. As she walked, she realized that her heart hurt. She didn't like arguing with Sirius and didn't understand how he wouldn't see reason. Never would she place the pack in danger. It was her duty and desire to lift the pack above all others. Meeting with diplomats from the other packs was the way to do that. Meet. Talk. Offer her services. Win favors. It wasn't difficult to understand, and yet he hadn't even tried. His lack of faith honestly hurt. Yes, she was knew, but he should have been able to see. With a sniff and a shake of her head, Iolaire went back to hunting.