When you join a pack you carry their mark and everything that comes with it. I belong to Iromar and when I was in Iromar I was dubbed a wolf that lived among the Demons. I was born from a Servitor, one that all Demons and pack members of Iromar considered the lowest of the low. He came from the depths of Hell and because he carried the blasted white mark he was considered unequal. He was my Father. I was in his shadow and I wanted nothing more than to prove to myself and to my pack that I was not like him. I am not sure he really came from Hell just as I am not sure the Angel pack are truly Angels. I had this discussion long ago with a white wolf that was trespassing within our territory and yet I allowed him to wander as he pleased. Knowing he would not attack me or others. I cannot say why I knew, I just did. Because I am a part of Iromar I carry the marks of what would be known as a ‘Demon Wolf’ and yet I did not carry that blood or deserve that title. When I wandered and created trust between other packs I was looked upon with dislike and yet I carried myself with humility instead of fear. Being part of a pack means you take the stigmas with it, you take on those that are considered your allies and those that you consider enemies. It was how things worked with any pack.

I know I seem not cautious at all when I approach him, but it is an act. When I approach other borders I emit not only humility, but extreme subtle caution. You never know when you will be attacked. This is just one of the many teachings my Mother gave me before she left. I seem quite laid back, but I can assure you I am poised, even as I sit, ever so ready to attack and fend myself and for my pack. I know that if I am attacked within these lands I can count on my Alpha and our Commandant to protect me. When Kaius came to attack one of our own Aithne and Astaroth killed him. It was a reasonable death. When he dips his head to me my own ebony skull lowers slightly, my violet eyes never leaving his own. When he speaks I stay quiet for a moment ready to choose my answer carefully until I hear the sounds of Aithne making her approach. When she comes I instantly lower my head slightly in respect to her rank, nodding my head once at her response. I can feel Aithne’s shoulder press into mine and I cannot help, but do the same, quite content to be at her side. It is when Avery comes and sits between us that I lean my own shoulder into her, glad to see she had made it. It is funny I think, that out of all the packs this is the only one where the females carry the majority of top ranks. I am still not feeling well and I know I must go back to my den, but I do not want to leave just yet. Not until our visitor seems satisfied with his meeting. Softly my cool lyrics slip out in a friendly manner after Aithne speaks.

“Are there any other questions you have?”

Really – what more did he need?