One might assume that Ripper could afford to be comfortable in his surroundings - this was his home, his sister reigned here as Pharaoh, and the wolves that comprised the small plains pack were fierce. Each one could easily hold their own in a fight, and with a simple howl he would be able to call whoever might be nearby to his aide. But in truth, it was simply Ripper's nature to be apathetic in most situations. Outwardly, he appeared almost like a plush bear, a cuddly toy of some sort. But beneath that thick outer layer of fur was a beast - muscles rippled just under the surface, and those sharp teeth that remained sheathed could become violent and detrimental with the flick of a switch. The thing was, his buttons were rarely pushed, or not hard enough to warrant a nasty outburst.

Thusly he came to stand before the shewolf with little regard for whether she posed a threat to the pack. At the very least she presented something of an opportunity for him to aide his sister in her new dominion. And if she did hold some spiteful intentions, well, he would deal with that if the moment arose. For now, he simply folded his hindquarters beneath himself to sit opposite the shewolf. They easily lid into conversation, and Ripper's black rimmed ears pricked forward to hear her response. He shrugged, her words somewhat reflecting what he'd already said, but also proffering information that might be considered useful. "So the deposed alpha is something of a friend to Glorall - or someone within." It wasn't a question, more of an observation given what she'd told him. One and one makes two. A wolf who comes and goes time and again had something, or someone, to visit.

Whether Sekhmet would be interested to know the movements of the fallen white wolf would remain to be seen. That the wolf who sat across from him had picked up enough on his scent to recognize him as kin to the risen leader did not surprise Ripper overly. A single ear flicked to the side nonchalantly, listening to their surroundings. "Strong enough to win this place in the more conventional way than most of the recently made alphas of Moladion." It had been years since a pack was won by tooth and claw rather than passed from paw to paw by indolent leaders. "It is good to be back," he said, glancing out across the rolling fields. Though he hadn't particularly taken a liking to this place when the little red wolf had ruled, it had a new shine to it under his sister's leadership. He, and the rest of the pack, were free to be themselves here.

Looking back to the woman, his head tilted to the side just so, expressing his curiosity about her. "The same wolf has led the southern shores for so long - does more and more of the same ever grow stale?" He was casting something of a line out, fishing for further information about Glorall, something more useful than the fact that the one-eared white wolf had been a frequent visitor in the past. What he might reel back in - if anything - remained to be seen.