sign of the times

She listened attentively, noting the way that he spoke about the pack that had rubbed his fur the wrong way, saving notes about bad attitudes and egotistical pricks to mind as a pack to avoid. She nodded, a soft hum of agreement with his words. She had never met the wolves, but she could understand fully how they would leave a sour taste in a loner’s mouth. She offered a shrug at his words. “I think it depends on the pack; I’ve met some where loners are nothing more than outcasts and stragglers, others who were accepting, and some who were just outright rude.” She offered her two pieces of kill, even if he hadn’t asked for them.

In her opinion, the wolves in the pack mattered more than the pack itself; if there were a bad seed, then a bad tree would grow and soon there would be an infestation. Personality mattered. He went on to offer advice, and she was quickly getting the idea that he was the perpetual loner type. She herself agreed with his mindset. She found herself getting along quite well with him, though it was difficult for her to get a read as to how he felt about her in return. It was clear that he felt comfortable enough to offer her advice, so she supposed it was something.

“It’s a popular tactic; I’ve found I have… issues… with authority.” She offered, firmly planting her in the loner-centric side of the scale. After being raised to rule a tribe, it was difficult for her to give up her freedom and follow another, so she simply didn’t. “I was always raised that a pack should be built on respect rather than a fear of death or a game of survival.” She once again offered her opinion, pleased to be able to have such a conversation.