Vaken could feel the tension in the air. It was thick and heavy, putting everyone on edge. Of course, he had expected that. Lone wolves didn't belong in pack territory, but here they were. Three of them facing the draw wolves like a line had been drawn in the dirt. They were small and wicked, sneaky looking vermin with sharp fangs and venomous eyes. They had weaselled their way into the main clearing, made themselves at home. The scruffy looking boy knew the impression they gave off. Vaken was particularly rough looking, with his knotted winter coat. He seemed more coyote than wolf, especially now. When his mentor's eyes met his, Vaken felt the impulse to look away. He fought it, his eyes burning coldly back into the man's without an explanation. There was no apology in his face, but no hatred either. He had no ill will towards Garmir. This was strictly business, and Vaken would hear his mentor out first.
When the scarred man moved towards him, Vaken microscopically tensed. They were friends. They had spent nights sleeping beside each other, shared meals and stories. The scruffy looking boy had admired Garmir, learned so much from him. They had gotten so close, became brothers. It didn't feel like it now though. Now- all the boy saw was Garmir's raised tail and the threat in his voice. Forced dominance was not something Vaken approved of, it felt like a spit in the face, a challenge. The boy did not break eye contact, maintaining his own sense of dominance. He was sitting, so he could not lift his tail, but he felt his fur start to raise. It took everything in his power to flatten it, to hear his mentor out.
Was there any loyalty in him? Of course, there always was- but at a cost. Vaken would join the pack. He'd revive it, bring his comrades. He knew he would be capable of raising the numbers, filling the cache, offering new life into the dying draw- but not as a subordinate. His intentions had always been clear. He had spoken to Garmir of his desire for leadership. He had no intention of being a right-hand man, working behind the scenes just to eat second. The idea of it made bile raise to his mouth, a grimace settling across his features. He had never wanted that from a pack, regardless of what it had to offer him.
Garmir had two wolves under him, just like Vaken. They faced each other now evenly matched, eye to eye. The boy didn't snarl or bristle his fur, he kept himself oddly calm and still. When it was time for him to speak, he gave a small nod. "You know my conditions Garmir." He lifted his head a little higher, keeping malice out of his tone, but his words were heavy. He was challenging Garmir. It wasn't a fight, but an offer. Without their help, the draw would most likely crumble. It was clear now that without the apprentice, the draw would cease to exist. "I respect you. I care for you," his eyes slowly drifted across Garmir's two subordinates with disinterest, almost pity, "but I will never work under you."