Just when Zephyr's patience had reached the end of its rope, the wolf who had… insisted on bring him here finally made an appearance. He was an eager thing, bounding into view like a puppy in spring. The golden fur along his nose and back shimmered brightly in the chilly sunlight as he neared his target. His voice echoed loudly as he greeted the white brute, the birds in the treetops silencing their songs as they eavesdropped on the carnivores below. Zephyr didn't even bother trying to pronounce the garbled name that spewed from his captor's mouth, instead he just referred to him as 'Whelp', even though he was clearly older than Zephyr.

Whelp reassured his "friend" of his alpha's intentions and at once the ex-Iromarian was on the defensive. He had never been fond of Blackthorne, but the cruel wolf had done his work well to ensure his secrets would be kept hidden from his enemies. The indoctrination Zephyr had suffered had made the boy retreat further into himself. He wasn't about to just tell this stranger what he knew. Ears fell flat, and a growl rumbled in his throat, as he prepared to give the brown whelp a tongue lashing. However, the line of questioning took the scarred wolf by surprise. Rather than asking about Blackthorne's plans and secrets, the stranger asked Zephyr who he was and what he had endured within the swamps. Why on earth would this wolf's alpha care about him?

Whelp's demeanor changed slightly as he looked Zephyr up and down, noticing his scars and scrappy fur. Did he really look so bad? He figured he had faired better than most who had been swept up by the dark lord of Iromar. When he mentioned Blackthrone as a potential friend, Zephry growled a curt laugh. "He was no friend of mine! He was a plague upon Moladion. We all were. The things we did under his rule would make you crawl back to your mother like a suckling cub." Standing up suddenly, he glared jade daggers at the silly wolf. No, this had to be a trap! He was trying to lull Zephyr into a false sense of security. They wouldn't drag him, an ex-follower of one of Moladion's most hated wolves, all the way to the forest to ask how he was now that he was free! Well, he wasn't about to give them what they wanted.

At once, he guard was back up as his hackles rose. "Unfortunately for you, you brought the wrong wolf to interrogate. I knew little of Blackthorne's true plans. If you wanted that sort of information, you should have captured my brother. He was Blackthorne's right hand man." A wicked smile spread across Zephyr's scarred muzzle. Of his siblings, the only one who felt the white wolf's love had been Aakil. While there might have been some sort of connection to Zharko buried somewhere deep within the shadows of his mind, it wasn't enough to feel sorrow at his disappearance. Returning his attention back to Whelp, he finished by saying, "Now then, am I free to go or am I going to have to fight my way out?"