Price of Leadership

Zas and Mocks had set out on the hunt of the trail for the recently risen dead. A few hours or so into their trek, the philodox looked back to his Alpha. The exertion of the packs' constant travels and recent events clearly seemed to be having an effect, though figuring out exactly what effect was not easy given the Shadowlords ability to seemingly master his feelings.

"You've been fairly quiet. I am curious to hear your thoughts." The Silent Strider spoke softly, slowing his pace.

He ran his his hand thoughtfully over his tomahawk, "We have certainly been occupied lately. Having a ragabash as Alpha definetly seems to keep things....interesting." He noticably has difficulty finding that last word.

Mocks sighed as he closed his eyes and shook his head in response to his Philadox.

"Interesting is not generally a word used as a compliment, but I can't say after killing innocents and kin that I deserve a compliment. Although I am curious what word you would have chosen had we been wise and chosen not to attack."

He sat down against a tree.

"Sorry Zas. Just give me a minute."

He paused a moment before speaking.

"We played it safe and it bit us in the ass. We knew they had silver, they smelled of the Wyrm, vampires had used that path before. Our logic was sound... but it wasn't enough. It would have been a risk to talk to them, but we should have investigated further before murdering them. We could have disguised ourselves as bandits, searched their wagons, told them they had nothing worth stealing and just moved on."

He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair.

"Rends stepped down from Alpha when there was no blood on his hands... surely killing kinfolk outweighs that. Perhaps I'm not cut out for Alpha... you told me long ago that I thrive in the shadows. I should have listened to you then and stayed there."

Zas considers the first comment for a moment. What word would I have used to define his period of being Alpha prior to recent events...

He replies, "Unitil recently I would have described everything as having been more or less ordained. You had a vision, a strategy. You set out to achieve this strategy cautiously. When you reached a goal you were relentless in its execution, and swift in moving forwards."

He pauses, "The only thing that had yet to be tested was aim and accuracy; being precise in knowing where and when to strike."

The philodox sniffs into the wind for a moment before speaking again. "You told me my duty to you in this pack was to challenge you, to view you as an enemy so that I would be exceptionally prepared to defend our actions. Remember?"

"I did not find fault in your decision to strike at the wagons. You're correct in the knowledge that based on what was known, the logic made sense. Our path was seemingly straightforward." The apache nodded to himself. "Yet-I do not think this justification is sufficient for the Bone Gnawers...or the slain."

He sighs, "The price for making hasty judgments is always suffering. We acted on what we knew, but trusted that our assumptions about the unknown were factual. This was woefully inaccurate."

At Kefka's final statement Zas grew quiet. He looked in vain for signs of tracks, to discontinue the topic but upon finding nothing cursed. He then turned to face his alpha and grew a grim look as he spoke, "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps you were never destined for the mantle of leadership, or made to withstand and bear the responsibilities of serving as pack Alpha. Maybe Grandfather Thunder made a mistake choosing you to act in his stead..."

The Silent Strider's face softens, "...Or maybe Harriet was right. Maybe the stranger was right. Perhaps I was right. It may even be possible that you got what you hoped for..."

"You spoke of having read of the cursed one's journal from the white ash sept. How you felt that he had done all he had done for Gaia. How you hoped others would view you with the same mercy." The red skinned man recalled.

Zas looked at Mocks, his face serious and his eyes seeming to be trying to pierce the Shadowlords soul. "We cannot change the past; we cannot go back in time. We live right now. The pack's survival demands you stay focused. No one else can make decisions for you. Only you can decide who and what to believe. Accept this, and make your decision as to how to move forwards; If you cannot then you must surrender your role as Alpha."

Mocks stayed silent while the Philadox spoke. When the philadox was done Mocks a small smile appeared on Mock's face.

"I remember what I told ya alright."

He placed his hat back upon his head as he stood up and stretched.

"You are right. I can't live in the past and mope around. I have to decide what direction we will be moving forward in. This is a mistake...but this does not have to be my legacy. I succeeded until this point, I will lead us to victory once again."

He looked at his philadox as his smile retreated from his face.

"My apologies for losing focus. There is a time and a place for being harsh critic to one's self and now is not the time. There is too much to be done for me to be distracted in my own pride and weakness."