Atreides laughed. He shook his head in incredulous wonder at the loner's bravado, and laughed. "Really?" he asked her, his muzzle crinkled in an amused expression. "That's what you're going with? Even the babies in this pack get trained 'fore they can walk and you want me to go get Mister Valentine so you can disrespect our alpha? Ma'am I tell you what, if I call any of the grownups they'll probably tear you up and that wouldn't be any fun for you or me, would it? So I'm not going to call for Mister Valentine, or any of the grownups. I'm just going to ask you nicely to leave now that you've had your fun, haha, and you've got a fully belly so I think you'll do just fine hunting on loner land from now on, and I'll leave you alone to do whatever you want to once you hit the other side of our border. And if you don't wanna do that, I'll have to make you. Neither of us would like that much." His green eyes continued to watch her lazily but the mind behind them was alert and focused. He'd been trained in fighting literally since his first day out of the den and he was an Armada... he wasn't, despite his gangly-puppy appearance, the easy pickings she seemed to be assuming he was.
