Patience was not the boy's strong suit, and yet he sat there before the dead body in complete silence for several minutes just waiting for the rest of the audience to show. His skin prickled in slight agitation as he let his murky golden eyes shift from Lilith, to the dead body, around and back again, the seconds passing by very, very slowly. He could not help but feel that making Lilith wait was a bad idea and nearly hoped she might be sporting a short fuse today. Unlikely, though. The Grand Marquis had a reputation for lethal grace.

A crashing through the swamp grasses turned the boy's ears back, body visibly cringing at the rather noisy footsteps of a trio that nearly flooded into the clearing. Two presented themselves dripping with mud from the several puddles they had apparently jumped in on their way to the meeting, markings hardly noticeable besides the fact that one was lighter and the other much darker, and the third, despite at least being presentably clean for the Grand Marquis, was such stark white in color that Locke's lip lifted in involuntary distaste.

Mother said it had once been customary to kill any white wolf on sight. When had that tradition cycled out? Oh well, it had not been his decision, certainly, and as a child there was little he could do to effect such things.

The three immediately began talking, causing Locke's face to contort in a look of utter disgust. Had he woken in a different pack today? Mother would never have permitted such a show from him, Hepzibah, and Rome. As much as he enjoyed the fact that their instant verbal vomit named him superior by Demonic law, witnessing their mindless jabber reminded him that they were not representing a very high bar either. Locke shifted away from the boisterous group a few steps and set himself back down, his fur nearly on end by his obviously irritated state as he continued to wait. To his surprise, the darker boy of the trio walked straight up to Lilith and grazed her leg with his cheek. The look she gave him at first was comforting in Locke's mind. Disappointment. Clearly, she was not so pleased that her own child had spoken before the rest.

Hepzibah arrived next in a far more attractive style than the previously unnamed three. Locke ignored his sister as she turned her obnoxiously smug smile on him and settled in on his side. He knew what game she had going on in her head and he had no intentions of speaking the first word. Only before Lilith would he willingly submit. Zaqar, whom appeared soon after from the mist, might earn his submission, but he was also their much older sibling and was far more deserving than his sister. It would be a cold day in hell before he opened his mouth before Zibah.

While others were busy with their talk, attention centering solely around the dead body before Lilith's paws, a hushed huff stole Locke's attention. His ears flicked back toward the grasses, head turning in like just in time to see a red-fringed, black face disappearing back into cover. Locke's murky gold eyes narrowed toward the reeds where the face had retreated to, interested and confused with exactly what the girl was accomplishing by sticking her head out and pulling it back in again. If he had noticed her, it went without saying that Lilith must have. It wasn't like she could hide herself. But soon thereafter, the small girl reemerged, standing tall and confident as she waltzes in to place herself beside Zaqar. He found his gaze lingering on the girl for a long moment, the first he had seen of his age besides Hepzibah, but did not have long to take her in before the most unexpected voice broke up the chatter of the three noisy pups from before.

Locke's attention immediately snapped up to Lilith, eyes wide with the initial shock of hearing her speak before even half the gathered audience had made themselves known. He was not so shocked, however, to miss her words. She was not submitting and her very tone dared even a thought otherwise. The Grand Marquis was very clear with her expectations and Locke would not be so naive to play games and hold on to petty rivalries. Zibah's little game could be continued later; Lilith expected them to answer and he would not be the one to keep her waiting.

The boy's gaze dropped down to the prone body in the center of the gathering, nose twitching to inspect the smell it was putting off more thoroughly than before. What was the wolf's weakness? He knit his brows together in thought, only an ear flicking to the side upon the lead-footed arrival of his brother. As expected, Rome dragged his heavy corpse to sit beside Locke. And, as expected, he made a most original greeting... so to say.

Black fur raised dangerously along Locke's spine, lips lifting in a snarl over his pristine puppy teeth at his brother's remark. The narrowed lines around his murky cold eyes contorted from concentration to anger, but he did not turn to look at Rome. Now was not the time for this stupid game. Much as he would love to sink his teeth right into the side of his thick brother's face, legs quivering readily at the very idea, he would have to get revenge later. Right now, they should all be on their best behavior. Lilith's rank deserved as much.

A small voice broke the silence that had fallen behind the Grand Marquis' question, that belonging to the black and red girl sitting beside Zaqar. Locke listened to her reply, finding it to be not entirely bad at all. At the very least, it was much better than Rome's idiotic remark. Certainly, not being smart had probably led the old, decaying wolf to his grave in some fashion, so that was maybe a very logical thing to say. Murky yellow eyes shifted to the girl, down to the corpse, then up to Lilith.

"He gave up. He got old, his body was failing, and he gave up." Locke spoke with confidence, omitting the arrogance he normally used with his siblings. Hey may not be correct, he might not even be close, but his answer was as valid as anyone else's. "I would say his lack of will makes him weak."

Don't turn your back.
Don't look away.
And don't blink.

. l o c k e