<span style="font-style: italic"> Pack Territory</span><br/><br/>It was in the tone.<br/>They all knew it, this particular tone. There wasnâ€™t man nor beast there that hadnâ€™t carved it into the back of their skulls already. Her voice. Her dangerous one, all wicked sharp like broken metal. From the memories of hot summer evenings of being a pup, initiating and cocking things up, to the very recent years, watching and giggling as she purred sheer acoustic<span style="font-style: italic">dread</span>into the packs enemies, churning the shit in their veins like butter, the pack had learned to keep a careful ear out for it. The way her breathy tones fell fatally level. The sharp lilt to each syllable like they in on needles. Notes so hot they leapt from her tongue like fat from bacon rinds. These were all warnings. Big, flashy, fucking neon warnings. Warnings hanged three inches from your nose. Warnings that said; â€˜Hold on to your hats fellas, thereâ€™s a storm aâ€™ coming,â€™<br/>...And there often was.<br/>Just... not like this.<br/><br/>The grunt of pain snapped up Sables gaze quick as silver, by the time heâ€™d hauled himself upright from his doze on the carpet the Alpha already had Damien on his knees. The pack wolf, up til now his comrade, knelt in front of her, back bent, teeth gritted, jaw jut so far out it threatened to make a getaway all of its own, his arm locked behind his back, tremors running through it. Kamora had one slender hand planted into his back and to be honest that was all she needed. It was staggering how much strength screamed through those seemingly dainty wrists...<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">â€œNow what did you tell Samuel, Darius I do understand he is your brother. But he is against me, and therefore against you. Now over all you know what my punishment is for betrayal correct.â€</span>Her voice dropped to the infamous tone.<br/>Oh-ho! He knew it alright!<br/>The salty, sweet smell of fear and agitation coiled out into the room like smoke.<br/>A burst of adrenaline kicked Sables heart into full pelt, it battered against his ribcage like a lost bird. The corners of his lips twitched uncomfortably and without thinking he hunkered down, shifting his weight, bare feet beneath him, plush carpeting growing between his toes, knees pulled up to his chest, a single set of fingertips planting him into the ground, holding his balance. It was an anxious stance, one that was only too ready to move, but that was hardly any surprise.<br/>Darius just... he hadnâ€™t seemed the type! Alright, on retrospect, he was the obvious choice, blood wasnâ€™t just significant to the shit-suckers and the stinking humans, but... damn, heâ€™d been so goddamn loyal! Getting an honest word out of the rest of pack was like drawing breath from a stone.<br/>Sable watched on in avid fascination, like a kid with a train set, winter sky eyes flickering between the two, calculating, note-taking, the cogs behind them spinning.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Yes I understand my punishment, and I would rather be punished than speak the betraying words I spoke to Samuel."</span><br/><br/>Someone had dropped half of Snowy Peak into the pit of his stomach, a low growl of a noise shuddered up from the back of his throat, breaking the quiet reverence. And apparently he wasnâ€™t the only one. A shared shuffle of agitated movement crossed the length of the room. It was a preternatural soap opera. The quiet man next door confessing to a hundred grisly murders, the last one you could have expected. One moment before it happened, everyone knew Dariusâ€™s fate. Darius included.<br/><br/>The ripe, metallic scent of blood ripped through the air the very second the veins tore open. Ligaments pulled on their tethers and popped, bone gelatine squelched, vertebrae cracked and groaned at their speedy removal, barely a noise had rattled through his windpipe before it was proudly hoisted in the air, open and exposed at the base of the cragged remains of his neck, like broken water piping jutting from a demolished house. It was all the homely sights, sounds and smells of a home grown dinner as far as the wolves were concerned.<br/>It couldnâ€™t be said that the moral implications of cannibalism hadnâ€™t crossed the ginger sea of Sables head before, but currently such human<span style="font-style: italic">thinking</span>had no place in him. He couldnâ€™t tear his gaze from the rich, heated colour staining the body; the smell filled him up like a cup making the back of his jaws ache with longing. His skin itched with the burning promise of an imminent turn, muscles aching with the need to shift, back of his tongue thick with saliva.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Feed my lovely children. This wolf was the lowest of the low."</span><br/><br/>Fuck the change!<br/>The minute the alpha had stripped the manâ€™s sorry body of her claim half the pack had already dived in, rats on a dumpsite, taking all the good bits! He didnâ€™t need to be in his wolf to enjoy these little treats anyhow. Sable could picture it damn-near photographically already, sinking his teeth in, letting the warm blood rush over his tongue, catching skin and flesh under his fingernails and picking them out laterâ€”<br/><br/>---- before he knew it he found himself snapped at, knocked back from the kill by a hefty set of shoulder blades and kept back by a hefty set of teeth.<br/><br/>â€œYouâ€™ll get yours runt!â€ Someone snapped.<br/><br/>â€œOh! Cusâ€™ yer always leave mâ€™sech tasty liâ€™l morsels, donâ€™t ye!â€ He retorted, pikey accent twisting the words into an evolved form of super sarcasm, â€œGenerous bastids ye are!â€ an animal whine escaped his throat as he craned his neck to see over the rest, count just how much would be left, â€œI always get tâ€™feckinâ€™ wobbly bits! I feckâ€™n hate tâ€™feckâ€™n wobbly bits! Everyone hates tâ€™feckâ€™n wobbly bits! Just once Iâ€™d like--â€<br/><br/>â€œBack off!â€<br/><br/>Sable ducked his head, eyes trained to his feet, but not without a token argumentative frown, â€œAiet, aiet,â€ he retreated. Long enough even for the hunger to curl back in him. It hadnâ€™t left; it never really left, especially not in the presence of raw meat and feral pheromones. No, it just sat behind the glassy windows of his eyes, watching and waiting in a half arsed interest and mild amusement, preening itself ready to come charging in through his system with no warning, no nothing.<br/>He watched his pack eat for a few minutes, nursing his bruised ego and pocking at his subdued inner animal, silently going over that evenings events in detail. He paused, dark brows knotting in the middle before he slunk over to the Alphas room, forbidden territory unless you had her permission or enjoyed getting your legs ripped out at the sockets. He knocked gingerly at the door with the back of one hand, â€œAlpha?â€