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Durorger is secretly relieved at avoiding a fight. He, in his arrogance, is quite sure he would have survived intact, but he's not quite so sure that Raydiehl could of. No faith in his sister's abilities...comes from doing all the hunting himself on the road. Since his black sister's not talking to him, the white waits for a few seconds until she's walked off, and then follows, making sure to kick what he thinks is a dead Korat's wound, making sure to mar his pristine coat with a little blood. Ray might not want to "lie" - that is, pretend to be at a battle she wasn't at - but Dur is always glad of a little insurance.
Umarak, at this point, isn't distressed: everything's laid out clearly for her. Her cubs, always her first and foremost duty, were taken care of, and then she went to take care of her second duty - to the pack. Her first duty was fulfilled, and that the second wasn't...was unfortunate, but unavoidable. The proud red trots back to the clearing, head held high.
The Korat that Durorger kicked lets out a wheezing grunt, eyes opening a crack. His head creaks around to view his wounds, and then the large black Korat, spawn of Wureshi, plays dead. His time will come. To join this new pack...somehow...or to go back to Wureshi...either way, Ralturi doesn't intend to kick the bucket just yet.
(Bah...I couldn't resist taking a Wureshi-spawn. XP)
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