A rather belligerent, rude call snaked its way to the audits of the tigeresque Starling. She frowned, neck craning. Elane’s eyes, a green bright as spring grass, narrowed slightly. The voice sounded pretty young. She supposed it could be forgiven, but she wasn’t keen on dealing with a rude pup. She was a pack zeta, true, but lately Elane’s tether had been frayed with the death of her only sister, Omen. She didn’t lack for kindness or patience; she was just tired and sad and grieving. She had a shorter fuse than usual.
Arriving at the border, she noted two young male pups, seeming pissed off at each other . . . oh joy. This wasn’t going to be very fun. Elli cleared her throat politely. “Hello! My name is Elane; I’m a zeta of Amberbjorne. Judging by your words when you called, I’m guessing you want to join the pack?” She supposed she’d be charged with these pups’ care, if they really did join. She didn’t have a problem with that, unless they turned out to be very rude indeed . . . well, she couldn’t condemn them now. She had plenty of time to figure out what their attitudes were like.

“Step one, you say, we need to talk, he walks, you say sit down it’s just a talk.”