Not throwing away my shot [Pack claim!]

Alastor watched the throng of wolves appear one after the other, sizing each one up as they made an appearance. Many came to support the fleabag pirate. Several supported his wife. Others sat neutral. He noticed Recluse amongst the neutral parties, disheartened that he hadn't been able to sway her over to their side, but perhaps she was being tactful and remaining neutral as an alpha. Hattori had also appeared, sitting neutral to watch the fight commence. For the most part, Sparrow's own crew didn't even want to be a pack. It was humorous to Alastor to overhear. It seemed Sparrow was a leader who did as she pleased, and not by the desires of those who followed her. A selfish pirate... how quaint.

But one voice from the pirates' side caught Alastor's ears. Obsidian eyes shot across the way to lock a glare on the black, blue, and yellow male loudly declaring celebrations in order "when their king kicked this purple lady's ass". The old haggard he spoke to made a similar remark, and she was on his list now too. Oh, you poor fuckers, you chose the wrong wolf to say that about... Alastor felt the trace of a snarl curl the edges of his lip. If Manea won, he would be demanding a sincere apology from the shimmery bastard, or he'd be leaving with the wannabe pirate's face in his jaws. Hey, he wasn't an unreasonable guy. Until the fight concluded though, he would wait, supporting his wife and restraining his squirming son, abyssal eyes never leaving his target. Already he was wondering what a sparkling wolf's blood would taste like.

The dire wolf's violent thoughts were interrupted when another wolf came to sit beside him in support of Manea's claim. The man was as large and bulky as he was, his fur equally as dark, though this wolf bore markings of white rather than the red Alastor sported. His saber fangs were an impressive sight to say the least, and he was sure Manea would enjoy seeing the gifts this brute of a wolf possessed. The man smelled of a pack they had passed by in their travels, and when he introduced himself as Sirius Fatalis, Warlord of the Armada, it clicked. This was no mere wolf. This was an alpha.

"'Warlord', what a marvelous title! Alastor Mendacium, future Genetor of Elysium." Alastor gave a dark chuckle, then turned his eyes back to his mate as the fight kicked off between her and Sparrow. "Well, once my wife takes care of a bothersome sea dog, that is." Black eyes turned with a curious quirk of his brow to the Fatalis patriarch. "You're the only alpha I know of to pick a side in this fight. What brings the Warlord to the Mendacium side? Just have something against pirates?" If that was the case, then perhaps Sirius would be interested in helping him chomp down on some of Sparrow's noisy cohorts in the peanut gallery when it was all said and done. A guys' moment, so to speak. Nothing more bonding than breaking the bones of your enemies together!


"Alastor"