Out with the old

The fight had been short, and more brutal than he had intended. She - like every other wolf in his life - was so small beside him. Regret and anger washed over him. Why did she have to keep pushing? Why didn’t she know when to stop? She had brought this upon them both, and now he had to live with it. He watched her go, watched her for longer than he needed to, because he knew the judgement he would see on the face of every wolf around him. There were more wolves of her litter here than anyone else in the pack.

He took a slow, steady breath, and then looked about him. His eyes cold, and closed off. He was Alpha now, and he had to take charge of that. “Any other challenges for Warlord?” He growled. Let them all come at him now, and get this over with. Was any other wolf here waiting for him to fail?

"Basilisk Fatalis"