"I have heard of you...these fights of yours," came a firm, yet
gentle voice from behind the group. "I had always thought them to be
myths, until I came upon the evidence myself. Are you so convinced
that your way is right, that your Alpha can do no wrong? If so then
you are brainwashed. Even my pack knows I am not infallible."

It was Artanis, standing tall in the doorway, his shadow flitting
about the floor from the light of the fire.

Jackson eyed the cast on Artanis's foreleg and spat, "You too,
oh 'proud and noble wolf'? You also kowtow to humans. Look...when you
are hurt...you come snivelling to this old grey one. You said...I'm
pathetic, old dog? Look at him...then tell me who is pathetic. At
least I haven't sold my soul to the humans."

"Oh you haven't, eh," growled Steele, teeth bared. "Well let me give
you a little lesson in what selling one's soul is. It's trusting in
some mongrel scum instead of someone who's proven himself reliable.
Mongrel scum just like you. If it weren't for Jerry up there, I'd
have torn your throat out already. And don't think that I wouldn't do
it."

Connor leaped to Steele's side, nudging him away. "Come Steele. This
one is not a target for your quarrel with Balto. Leave him be."

At this Steele growled slightly. He knew, however, that Connor was
the most observant dog he'd ever met, and decided that following the
Akita-mix's advice would be preferable to another dog fight.

"Now...please. Tell us more about what it is that you do," said Jerry
encouragingly.

OOC: Well, that was at least something, aye?