Anthology of the Realms, The Werewolf King

The Meeting...

Sensing the increasing hostility within the room, Alpha Maûrott rose from his high perch and spoke to the council.

"Good afternoon gentlemen."

He began in a superior tone ahead of his usual greeting.

"There seems no point proceeding with the proposed agenda set out for this council meeting today. I can clearly see that you all have many questions for me in regards to the Human held here in the Great Hall." He spoke in long drawn out sentences.

"Was he serious? Many questions?" Théoner guffed internally.

In Théoner's mind, there was only one question, maybe two but that's if he was to be gracious about the whole debacle.

First and most importantly. "Why isn't the Human dead already?"

And secondly. "Why is it here in the first place?"

To Théoner's mind, there were no other questions that required asking not to be answered for that matter. 

Tälon, sensing his Alpha's rising irritation, shifted in is seat uncomfortably. Théoner caught a glance of his warriors to his left, they knew their leader well enough to know that he was not about to sit calmly for too much longer.

Questions were immediately fired at the Grand Master from all directions, like ammunition spraying it's way out of the weapons seated around the arched table, clearly Théoner wasn't the only pissed off wolf in the room.

"What's going on?"

"Why is it here?"

"What are you keeping from us?"

"What does it look like?"

"How dangerous is it?"

"Why is it alive?"

Finally, in the opinion of all in the room, the only rational question asked.

The Packs' interrogation bombarded the Grand Master with question, after query, after accusation, but with no apparent affect. The man had learned to develop an invisible buffer years ago, like a bullet proof vest, able to deflect shots of emotional outbursts and accusations.

Maûrott sunk back into his seat with a cocky grin on his face, clearly he enjoyed the tension rising in the room.

"I'm done this charade." Théoner scoffed silently to himself.

"Look at that arrogant jerk, nestled Lordly upon his throne like God almighty himself. He watches his kin...the wolves from HIS Realm, look up to him for answers, practically beg him for reassurance in this time of uncertainty, and yet he gives them nothing, no council, no comfort."

It was of Théoner's opinion that Maûrott was no King. He resembled more of a rat, feeding of the vulnerability of those who paid him homage, or that of snake charmer conjuring up a deadly serpent, it was all smoke and mirrors on an invisible thread. The man has no backbone, a weak constitution and he dishonoured the title of The Werewolf King.