Ruegar watched the fray, a cruel grin on his face as the pack descended on their former â€˜Alphaâ€™.<br/><br/>â€˜He would not run if he was a â€˜trueâ€™ Alpha, he would turn and fight to the death over his dominance of the packâ€ Ruegar growled. This was the most true and instinctual way to discern the leader from his followers; in turn, the pack respects its patriarch for his superior defensive capabilities. It was the more northern Dire-werewolvesâ€™ mantra, only the truly strong and therefore virile shall lead. This was â€˜natural selectionâ€™ at its finest and put full on for display for Ruegarâ€™s enjoyment.<br/><br/>â€œThis weakened pack seems more astute than the 300 refugees we stalk nowâ€¦.Look as that â€˜Betaâ€™ as he  bites the neck of his former masterâ€¦See him, that is<span style="font-weight: bold">strength</span>, that is<span style="font-weight: bold"> balls</span>â€¦..He doesnâ€™t hesitate, and meanwhile the<span style="font-weight: bold">former</span>â€˜Alphaâ€™ only runs like â€¦..<span style="font-weight: bold">â€˜PREYâ€™</span>!â€  Ruegarâ€™s immense fangs now show; it is not something one often sees and  then lives long enough to tell about, he usually only bares them in the most lethal confrontations, but seeing this wounded male limping for â€˜salvationâ€™ to a  â€˜Bitch â€“Alphaâ€™  (* â€˜bitchâ€™ is used in a literal manner here, meaning; â€˜female dog in heatâ€™) . â€œHow ashamed he must beâ€.  Ruegar barked.<br/><br/>Wendell cringed, and this was strange because Wendell was a beastly monster of a wolf, but heâ€™d heard that tone in his Alphaâ€™s bark before; it meant war. â€œYes my Alpha!â€