race me! race me!

Mortis made a frustrated little huffing noise, clearly struggling with what she was saying, and the pack law that his father must have neglected to mention when she joined. Not for the first time, he found himself struggling with how his father came about things with some wolves. He did not doubt that if Sirius knew about the keepers, he would protect her from them. The problem was, he would do so even if Hana was willing or not. He was also trying to wrap his head around what Hana was NOT saying. Did she mean they were keeping her as a bride-to-be? And why? His jaw clenched at the idea of anyone using his friend.

"Cover.. the cost.. to.." he paused, his side heaved once and he placed a paw over hers. He did not know how to clear things up with her. To tell her what she had both walked out, and walked into. Damn sirius, damn her keepers. His heart hurt. He closed his eyes, resting his head on their joined paws. "Sirius has a thing against slavers, but not slavery." His throat constricted against her paw as he spoke. "He thinks most wolves ill use their slaves, but thinks slaves in the Armada is a place to put wolves that need to work their way into someone who can actively support the pack. But he dosent... he wouldn't... did he say... Dammit Hana. Did he say he would let you go if your keepers came for you? Did he tell you the pack laws?" He sounded very heart sore, and suddenly older with those words.