Wounded Pride and an Empty Stomach

The Warlord heard the silence of the other wolfs steps, and turned to look at the man as he stopped, glaring up at the Warlord. Sirius concealed an eye roll. He could see the man would take offense, no matter where he went with this. At this point, the question was, did he want such a prideful beast in his pack? A wolf that was all bark without the bite? If he thought Askan had any strength to match his words, he might have been interested. Instead, he simply saw a young wolf too stubborn to care if he could hold his own or not. A wolf that would just be a trouble to teach, and a pain to subdue… as much as doing so might have amused the Warlord.

“Aren’t you? You're sounding like one. All bark, and no bite. ‘Woe be me, the world is against me” The Warlord rolled his eyes. “If something isn’t to your liking, seize it, change it. All I see is a skinny little wolf who doesn't want to learn to protect themselves” The Warlord shook his head, almost sadly, and turned to leave Askan behind in the cold winter snow. He had considered teaching the man to be a warrior of war, but he would not help a wolf that would not help themselves.