"Baby." Len reached out to hold Claude's shoulder as if it were enough to cover his mouth. "You don't have to disrespect Elder Amis too much. He's not yelling at you."
Claude paused and stepped back to bow a little. "Sorry about that."
The council was quiet. It was true that their soldiers had lost so much power over time. Even the elders couldn't live longer than most Omegas. They looked at each other, finally seeking Amis's words. However, the oldest wolf also wore a frown.
Amis then lifted his head to face the door. By then, even Len caught a certain whiff of a scent in the air. He turned to the double doors, only for them to open.
Two Epsilons entered and bowed to the Alpha and the council. One said, despite his trembling voice, "Master, a scout from the Grashalm pack has come, and he's heavily wounded. He said that the Grashalm pack is under heavy attack and asks for help. He's in the infirmary, receiving treatment. What should we tell the Gammas?"
