"Uh, no, not really," Stellan replied, taking a swig from the beer bottle Sig had provided for him a few minutes earlier. The beer was nice and cold, strong and refreshing, and a small little comfort underneath the hard glare of the tetchy alpha. "I didn't know 'im, really, but my old man did. Edmun? I doubt the name means anything to you. He died shortly after your dad did. Good wolf. Loyal. Always did everything with the intention of doing good for the pack. That was before Lofgren took over, of course. I don't think he'd be too pleased with the direction Lof's been taking the pack." He paused, setting his bottle down on the coffee table turned dinner table between them with a soft<i>thud</i>. "My old man admired Ivar. Used to tell me that's how I should strive to present myself: strong, aggressive, in control. Was shook when he died. Dad didn't think anything could take your old man down."<br/><br/>Stellan had meant it like a compliment, but Eivind certainly didn't seem to take it that way. The new wolf couldn't blame him, really. Stellan's father had died of a heart attack. Surprising and rare among wolves, but ultimately mundane. Ivar had been murdered, and Stellan couldn't fathom how difficult it must have been for Eivind to accept that, even over a decade later. The wolf had no idea what kind of man Ivar truly was, how he practically tortured his only son in order to be "strong." How could he? Whatever the source of Eivind's discomfort, Stellan could tell by the pinched look on Eivind's face that he had made a mistake bringing the whole thing up and didn't argue when Eivind forcefully drew the conversation back to him, trying to milk more information out of him about his relationship with Lofgren.<br/><br/>Eivind's questioning was leading, and his assumptions rubbed Stellan the wrong way. The bigger wolf cleared his throat and stabbed his fork into a chunk of meat, absorbing his quasi-rival's words. "Despite my dissatisfaction with Lofgren's way of handling things, I still make an attempt to do my duties to the pack. We unfortunately don't all have the confidence to abandon our brothers and sisters when things get a little hairy." Stellan's well of patience was beginning to run dry, but he was doing his best to keep things civil. Getting into a fight with an injured wolf on foreign territory was not only risky, it was stupid. Even if Stellan could take Eivind down, the ruckus would attract attention, and he very well couldn't fight off a pack.<br/><br/>It seemed Eivind had no intention of keeping his mouth shut, and upon his admission that he had slaughtered Alden and almost killed Colten, still found himself staring down hard at his plate, fingers weaved together tightly as if holding them there was the only thing keeping him from throttling Eivind. Stellan had never liked Alden much. He was tolerable most days, but Stellan always found it extremely unpleasant the way he would try to suck up to Lofgren and gain his favor. Colten... Colten was just a stupid kid. Easily manipulated and swayed by those with some authority, but harmless on his own. Too weak to put up much of a fight for a wolf like Eivind. They weren't his friends. But they were pack.<br/><br/>Blue pulled himself away from Eivind, his lips parted as he stared blankly at their guest. Blue had agreed to let Stellan stay because Sig vouched for him, but Blue's approval clearly wasn't enough for Eivind to behave himself and keep his mouth shut. All he had to do was pretend, make casual conversation before sending Stellan on his way, but no. Blue's body was tense, almost as on edge as Stellan's, and he waited for the big wolf to lunge across the table and throw fists at his mate, as wolves were prone to doing. His eyes quickly darted to Sig; he was sure the small wolf would be just as willing as he was to throw himself in between the two males and tear them apart if necessary, but there was no one everyone would come out of that scuffle unscathed.<br/><br/>Sig tried to defend Stellan but as far as he was concerned, it was too late. Stellan stood, glaring at Eivind as he did so. "Thanks for the food, Sig," he growled, flexing his fingers and curling them back up to fists at his sides.<br/><br/>"Look, Eivind, I don't know what the fuck Lofgren did to you, but understand that if we were having this conversation out in the middle of the woods, I wouldn't hesitate to tear your fucking throat out. I'm not so stupid that I'm going to kill some washed up piece of shit alpha on his own territory. You wanna hate him, fine. You have every goddamn right to. But I don't know what exactly you plan on gaining here by bragging about your kill to a stranger.<br/><br/>"What the fuck do you want from me? You wanna hate me because I was born into a pack that Lofgren took over five years ago? Go ahead. The look on your boy's face tells me he's really feelin' that bitter loathing you're spewing. I didn't come here for this."<br/><br/>All Stellan had wanted was to enjoy some extra time with the cute wolf he had found on the side of the road, but being pulled into some drama he had no connection to wasn't Stellan's style. The wolf huffed, stomping his way out of the cabin and to his bike, where he lit up another cigarette and took a long, slow drag.<br/><br/>The sound of the front door slamming shut made Blue jump. A moment of silence passed before he opened his mouth, his voice low and words straining to come out. "What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" he snarled, dropping his plate onto the coffee table so that he thudded loudly against the wood. "You couldn't control yourself for ten fucking minutes? I told you,<i>he didn't fucking do anything to me! He doesn't even know what the hell happened!</i>"<br/><br/>Blue had been, perhaps inappropriately, too ready to encourage Eivind's thirst for blood and revenge, but punishing the innocent was going too far. Eivind might argue that anyone connected to Lofgren wasn't innocent, but Blue didn't see it that way. He remembered the face of every wolf that raped him. Every. Single. One. Spending time antagonizing ignorant wolves didn't make him feel better. It wasn't justice for what had happened to him. It didn't help. Eivind didn't care about making him feel better. He just wanted to kill things.<br/><br/>"You can fucking stay down here for all I care. Try to get upstairs yourself with that gimpy leg of yours, asshole." Blue rushed away, running up the stairs like a wind had swept him up, eager to get away from his irascible mate.<br/><br/>The sound of a second door slamming, this time from upstairs, unseen, and then just quiet.