Jorah:

Never before had he been met with so much failure on a mission as simple as this. For the most part, it was meant to be reconnaissance - finding out the most important information of the moment. And the pressing question of course was whether or not Kalgalath would take his father’s throne now that the old King had died. If he did not, then Tywin would be met with little resistance in his efforts to take over not only the throne but the whole of the Kingdom, for without a Tyrell to follow, it would crumble. It was strange to many, perhaps, the customs of their land where a throne was passed from father to son. Royal blood was followed and was believed to be important there, and hierarchy was based upon it. Really, there was not much different between royal and servient wolves other than their name, but it meant something, and therefore alotted different amounts of respect, care, and resources. Those with the muddiest of blood were made to live in the lowlands, where they all too often died due to floods. Their meals were kept to simple things - flighty little birds, tiny hares - and they lived from one meal to the meal, barely scraping by. It was not until you got into the middle or highlands that life became worth living, with adequate shelter from the harsh weather, plentiful prey, and streaming bodies of water that did not change in depth or ferocity based on rainfall due to the mere fact that it all flowed downhill to swamp the lowlands.

Yes… blood meant something. Which was why Kalgalath was so pivotal. Jorah had already sought out the remaining offspring of the late king, and none of them had any intention of taking the throne. Many were content with their own little slice of life in a peaceful place and a quiet family, or else had renounced the way of packlife, like Kalgalath’s sister Uriel had. But Kalgalath fit the type to a tee, especially considering he was already living as an alpha of a pack. Yet the question remained - would Kalgalath abandon his flock in order to protect that of his father’s? Jorah had tried everything to get close to the King - he had tried to flirt with first Chenzii, then Blayre, and finally Uriel. Chenzii had quickly set her eyes upon another, although that fling had withered and died with the coming of the winter months. And then Blayre had come and left in the blink of an eye, disappearing before he had a chance to do more than flirt with her once or twice. Uriel, too, had disappeared after her sudden and unexpected appearance… which had stripped Jorah of his normal tactics. Still he had not despaired, and had instead tried to use his own tactics. He had been active and congenial with the pack, attending every event that had been held, even those he had not been invited to. And yet for some reason he had made little progress. Kalgalath had his ranks full already, which did not allow Jorah to rise in them at all.

But then had come the call - a pack meeting. Perhaps he would not get the advance knowledge that he had originally wanted to get, but whatever way was fine by Jorah at this point. At any rate, it was nearly winter again, which would be the deadline - only one year of mourning was allowed between reigns. The brute trotted toward the meeting, a tired smile upon his face. He just wanted to return to Tywin with an answer, one way or another. He was ready for the comfortable and luxurious retirement that he had been promised after this last mission, and he would see it through no matter what. His heterogenous pools swept the clearing before he entered it and cursed it all - if he had only arrived earlier, perhaps he could have asked the question directly and then made a choice as to his action, be it Kalgalath’s death or Jorah’s departure. A happy facade painted itself across his muzzle and he entered the scene with a bounce in his stride, settling next to Chenzii without seating himself too close to her. Respectfully, he dipped his head to Kalgalath and Sebring before smiling to Chenzii. “I have not seen you much these past months, how have you been, Chenzii?”