He had stood in place for the longest time, watching Allure fade into the distance while thoughts were taking a long journey elsewhere. It was all too much to mentally digest as it was being spoken, really, so this was time to catch up with everything that had passed between them in their latest—and thankfully productive—meeting. A black wolf with red eyes from Silver Creek had harassed then randomly attacked her on the shores of White Rose Lake. Silver Creek was attacking Nova Mountain.

Systematically? Were they trying to wipe their neighbors out because Sphinx was still pissy that Sinistra had come here—to his lands, rightfully—and reclaimed them? He wouldn’t put it past her… It was clever, though, on their parts: when all other defense fails, blame the victim. If you hadn’t built your house there, I wouldn’t have walked right into it. Use to be there was no house there!

Back to reality, Sinistra found himself—somehow—walking along towards the Nova Mountain border. It seemed his body had another mind all its own, separate entirely from what was going on in his consciousness at the moment: whilst mind was busy contemplating the idiocy of it all, body was busy actually doing something about it—namely heading towards the one place where one was most likely to find Allure’s brother. The Guardian, he was pretty certain, patrolled the borders until he collapsed of exhaustion, then got up and started over again…

And, lo, today his presumption proved correct: the large black figure was spotted walking the line that separated Nova from the outside world—looked as if no one from the Creek had invited themselves over today. Picking up the pace, Sin next found himself within good speaking distance of the Epsilon, whom received a nod in greeting but not much else—We need to talk.

Right then. Talk on…

About Silver Creek, Sinistra began, opting for an “alternate” manner of breaking the news that Allure had been attacked. She was fine, so there was no real reason to burst out with the whole story as if immediate action were required; that was not quite the case. Of course, Bronx was probably wondering why the Alpha felt compelled to seek out the Epsilon to talk about Silver Creek—sounded more like a discussion he ought to have with Tobin and Siaqi, and Poet even—but, anyway…

A wolf from there attacked Allure near White Rose Lake, the black wolf finished the cliffnotes version of the tale with that, quickly adding, She’s a little beaten up, but otherwise fine… More calm about it, I imagine, than you and I… unless he had completely misjudged Bronx and the Guardian’s reaction differed from what was expected… I’ve — and she — has no idea who, exactly, but that he was from the Creek. Black with red eyes. Just like every other trouble-maker in these parts.

Although he thought it odd that Bronx thanked him, a slight nod was offered in response as if to say “no problem” or “it was nothing” for lack of any desire to actually say either of those things (they did sound a little out of place, after all). Besides, it wasn’t quite like he was passing along the news so the Guardian could deal with it himself—Sinistra knew that Allure’s brother would want in on whatever reaction was made towards this devilish fiend that had attacked one of their own, but he had no intentions of letting Bronx have all the revenge to himself.

A corpse with red eyes, the black wolf mused, offering a slight tilt of his head in another direction as if again offering approval—not that the other at all needed it, but Sin himself was not opposed to the idea. It certainly would strain Creek-Mountain diplomacy, but then he had made every effort himself (publicly, at any rate) to do nothing offensive towards Sphinx pack. In fact, he had gone there during the sickness to check in and search for a cure; he had been perfectly polite to Mars; he had thought, perhaps, that the Creek had grown up. Apparently, he had thought wrong.

The way I see it, Sinistra replied to agree and confirm, There’s no relationship left to batter. Mister Red Eyes took care of that—in similar fashion to how I propose we take care of him.

Even though he really, really, really wanted to declare war on Silver Creek and blast them (so to speak) into all oblivion, Bronx did have a point. Trespassing and beating the living daylights out of some black wolf with red eyes was sure not to set well with Sphinx and her underlings; nor did it sound very good as gossip tidbits for the rest of the Valley. But if the criminal were kicked out of his pack for the crime and then something unfortunate occurred to him while he was trying to muddle his way out of the Salvajes… Yeah, different story entirely. A pack would notice if one of its members had been beaten or killed. But a loner who had been exiled?

Only a select few would care about that, and they didn’t even need to know what had happened to some foolish straggler who couldn’t run fast enough if he tried.

I’d like to speak to the others in the pack first, Sinistra began his response, …to find out if anyone has any more information about Mister Red Eye. He intended to do this immediately before their upcoming pack hunt—which Allure was probably busy planning at that very moment. After the hunt, when they were damn good and primed for killing things, then they could go to the Creek and ask for an audience with Sphinx. It wouldn’t hurt if they smelled of blood and had a few stains here or there from the warm-up event, either. Then I’ll go speak with Sphinx. You’d be welcome to come, too. And whoever else—truly, the more, the merrier. There was brute force strength in numbers.

Sinistra had no friends at the Creek. He knew Wip had gone there, and he might have counted her as a friend—but to his knowledge, the former Novan had even fled her new home. Starchaser was there, but he was no more a friend than a pile of bricks. There was no grudge held against him for leaving, but the two had never seen eye to eye in the other’s short time as a Mountaineer. Mars fell under the same category as the Prince of Kingdom Come or whatever his title was; Sphinx was a dimwit on her brightest days; GoldenShadow was a pawn; Kimoto was a psychopath; February was learning the Creek way well at her young age; Tiamat was a bonehead, although of the lot, he oddly felt he preferred her to any of them. And that really wasn’t saying much, but at least she had apologized for her ills.

As for the rest of the Swamp Suckers, he neither knew them nor wished to.

Sphinx and the Swamp Suckers. Haha.

The individuals make the pack, Sinistra reasoned. That was precisely why he was so picky with Nova Mountain members—and why he made it a point to threaten anyone who seemed dull with their life if they were found to be putting on a poor show elsewhere in the Valley. And Sphinx knows things are bad between us. She shouldn’t be letting her members act this way. And, true, the Creek leader had no real control over what Mister Red Eyes did when she wasn’t looking—hence why they would give her the opportunity to make things right by kicking him out.

Hopefully Silver Swamp hadn’t sucked out all of her brain, too.

It seemed their meeting had fulfilled its purpose—run its course—Sinistra had both informed Bronx of the attack and his plan, which had apparently not been met with disapproval on the part of the Guardian. And while the Novan leader had not been seeking his Epsilon’s approval per se, it was rather useful that the other was not frothing at the mouth to go find this Mister Red Eyes character when Sin himself wished to take an alternate route—it was even more useful that Bronx himself had clarified the plan further with his suggestion.

So that all worked out quite nicely; and the Mountain wolf found himself feeling almost pleased that the tension between his pack and the Swamp was finally going to come to the forefront of interpack discussion. Alas, sad the manner in which it happened, but the way those wolves were permitted to act it was only a matter of time… and better to have these things out in the open than secreted away while everyone waited to see what would explode next.

At the other’s remarks Sinistra merely smirked; he didn’t want anything from Silver Creek but their respect, and the pack had disrespected him and his from the moment the Nova Mountain group had been founded. He couldn’t fathom how they wouldn’t be ashamed at their collective behavior, but then some weren’t as mentally well-endowed as others.

Until the meeting? He suggested, implying an imminent departure. Bronx undoubtedly wanted to speak to Allure despite the insistence that she was fine; and Sin had plenty of his own things to attend to. Battle preparations…