jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse [raid meeting]

Upon hearing that Tyrian was looking for raid suggestions, Jupiter bellowed, "VALHALLA! Fuckin' Valhalla!" He waved his paw dismissively at all the strike them first talk for no other reason than that he'd gotten his balls stomped on by the Valhalla queen. Sirius with the Armada had been a giggle, and he'd have picked it for fun if that had been the name everyone else was suggesting, but he had a bigger bone to pick with Valhalla and it needed more mentions. "Valdis is right, they're really fucking wealthy. I went there to buy some sheep, remember, and that prissy bitch wouldn't deal with me." He'd trespassed, sure, but friends wouldn't have been a big uppity bitch about it. "They got all kinds of shit. Like a lot, Tyrian. So you can go after these empire cunts as a big show of force or whatever and maybe if you win you get some pretty pelts out from under those pretty perfumed asses, but that's not why you called this meeting. Am I right or did I hear all that 'we need to expand' shit wrong? It coulda been my ears, I guess. You want things not to get into a big dick kicking contest with some slippery cunt queen who saw a cheap shot and swung - and missed, mind you because," Jupiter waved a paw at Pestilence. "The would-be usurper just outed herself."

At some point Jupiter had gotten to his paws but he wasn't sure when. He flopped back down with a casual huff and a shrug. "I mean I'll fight fuckin' anybody, but you said you wanted things and there's only one pack I know who has fucking everything including HERDS of prey animals." Well, that wasn't quite true. Torrent had mentioned Winterfell, a pack Jupiter remembered from the market who had seemed pretty loaded. But Winterfell's alpha hadn't tried to mash his berries so Jupiter was going to pretend it didn't exist for the moment.