At first every word Alceme said had Avtandil’s jaws set tight. He had no loyalty to Glorall, this wolf, or anything. He simply had a mission that he wanted to fulfil and did not care what happened between then and now to make it happen. In the event he would need to argue his way out of this situation he would. Eyes narrowed and his lip curled slightly. Protests were on the tip of his tongue, ready to be thrown out at a moments breath to convince this wolf that he was in the right and needed to sneak into Iromar. Avtandil was swiftly embodying his parents and losing his cool. At least until Alceme turned it around on him again and offered to help.

Now the boy looked at the older wolf with suspicion. Why would the offer be proposed when mere seconds ago it was stated that he would be prevented from going into the other packland. Everything sounded like a trap and all of the sudden Avtandil did not trust it. The fact showed clearly on his skeptical face. I can’t do anything for you. As you stated. I am a kid. Therefore in the eyes of most adults powerless and stupid. Why would you even want to help me? There had to be some sort of motive for both or for either. Nothing was given or taken for free. In this case there was more at risk. In the back of the boy’s mind he thought there was a good chance, with the stories that floated around about the various wolves, that him going into Iromar would be a perfect gain for anyone willing to use the event to their advantage.