Her commentary was chilling, eliciting a silent and restrained shudder from the Hunter as she reminded him with but a scant few words that his partner was more animal than woman in so many ways.  It reminded him that, like as not, she would want to eat<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>one day if she outlived him.  Savage and feral and crude and unruly.  And his responsibility.  He did not refuse to allow her a feast of their kills because of his own prudishness, however; the order to burn the corpses came down from the Roakin himself, He Of The Gold Collar, Alpha of Alphas.  The one to whom every Clan in their country answered.  And regardless of reason, the Roakin's word was law; he bade the bodies be burnt to less than ash, and so they were.  With every hunt and every kill, one more rogue vanished completely from the world, nary a trace left of them but a scorch mark in the earth.  He quickly, almost mechanically, struck the match and lit the mangled fragments of his Tracker's mark ablaze, turning as he replaced the matchbook in his pocket to leave with his feral companion, ascending the staircase and opening up the polished, ebony two-seated sportscar for their return to the compound their Clan called "home".  Seats of high-quality leather and the faintest scent of pines greeted Alex and Fera, her seat already covered in numerous towels and some of her usual pelts to keep the blood, shining and corrupting blood, from seeping into the car.  It wasn't even his, rather having been lent to him to take into the city for this assignment.  The Clan owned the car, and the Alpha, powerful and wily Alpha, owned the Clan.  The father whom Alexin so despised, who had given his son the responsibility of being one of his potential successors alongside a handful of other Dominants.  Thinking of the Alpha made Alexin's blood boil; it was to spite that man that he had become a Hunter, hurling all the responsibilities his father might like to heap upon him to one side so that he might spend his time doing things actually useful to their kind.<br/><br/>They drove for quite some time, the ride from the city limits to their compound being half an hour in length and spent largely in silence; Alexin preferred silence during the trips to and from town as it afforded him time to enjoy some simple peace of mind, a luxury he had been receiving less and less of lately owing to tensions in the Clan and rising activity among the rogues.  The last third of their journey was his favorite, taking a gently winding road through the woods, either side lined with trees.  It was a peaceful scene, as if taken straight from a storybook; the shafts of light threading through the canopy, dust motes and fallen leaves dancing in the breeze along the roadside.  It made him relax, his expression softening into a small, satisfied smile to see and be reminded that beautifully unobtrusive things such as this existed.  All the relaxing sights in the world, of course, did not mean he was a careless driver, and so when he pulled into the front of the compound before a twenty-foot wrought iron gate he slowed to a stop and waited for the gatekeepers to open it, once they recognized him.<br/><br/>The estate was large, some might say unnecessarily so until they realized that over six hundred people, werewolves all and all of the Black Leaf Pack, lived within the walls of the compound.  It was simply large, then, occupying several dozen acres all surrounded by the same high walls that Alex and Feralupina had just driven through, all monitored by remote surveillance cameras night and day to keep unwelcome prying eyes at bay.  At the front entrance, the grey-eyed Hunter stepped out of the car along with his Tracker and went inside.  It was lavishly furnished, as might be expected of a Clan who made their wealth by managing the wealth of others, with grand rugs and displays of art lining the spacious halls with high ceilings, perfectly-spaced windows flooding the building with natural light on sunny days.  Unfortunately, it was overcast out on that late winter afternoon, but nonetheless Alex's home was something of a beauty to behold, Submissives going here or there on errands for their mates, or whatever Dominant relative they answered to if they were unmated; some male, some female, some collared and some not.  A brief glance towards his own Submissive drew out a sigh from Alexin before he turned to look at her, "Go change into something less lathered in the blood of vermin, I'll go get you a raw steak to dig into if you're still hungry."