Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's been reading! I hope you enjoy this next arc as it gets going. All of the notes and well-wishes are appreciated. No real warnings for this chapter. I think everyone even stays fully clothed throughout.

Part Two: An Awkward Conversation

"And you had been attending university, but you were forced to take a leave of absence." The words are spoken calmly, but Papa fixes Marius with a fierce stare that makes them seem almost accusatory.

"Father!" Cosette's voice comes out louder than she intended, her face flushing red with frustration as she looks from her father at the head of the table to Marius huddled in his seat across from her. Forcing a smile, she tries to find the sense of calm and peace and control that is always described in books when women are hosting guests. "This is not an interrogation, Father. You could phrase your questions a bit more… gently, don't you think?"

Papa doesn't even look at her, continuing to watch Marius, his expression hard as stone. "It's a simple enough question, Cosette. I'm merely interested in the boy's future."

Cosette sighs, barely resisting the urge push her plate away like a child in order to bury her face in her arms. This hasn't gone anything at all like what she'd intended. She'd thought perhaps it was merely the church setting that made Papa seem brusque and unsympathetic to Marius whenever he approached them. Papa was frequently busy at church, after all, trying to determine who needed what help and what they could offer, and perhaps he didn't like his good deeds being impeded by having to be sociable with someone who seemed relatively well off.

And Marius' hesitation at church could simply be discomfort with being in a temple dedicated to a god he didn't believe in, though she thinks he's starting to come around on that—he's actually seemed interested and eager the last few times he's talked to her about her religion.

Then again, he always seems eager when talking with her.

Which is the exact opposite of how he seems now. Now he cowers in his seat, his head tucked low to his neck, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes fixed on the ground, and she desperately wants to walk around the table and adjust his posture but knows better than to do so. Why is he acting like this? Why is he sitting like that? Why doesn't he meet her father's eyes, and why does he answer every question in an increasingly softer tone?

"Surely discussing your schooling shouldn't be such a terrible thing, now should it?" Papa's eyes narrow as he speaks, and his fingers are tense around his fork. The small cake that she had insisted he partake in with Marius and her has been cut into crumbling pieces, but she doesn't think he's eaten any of it.

"I ran into some financial difficulties, sir." Marius somehow manages to hunch down even further in his seat. If he bends any closer to the table he's going to have his face sitting in his cake. "It necessitated that I take a leave of absence from classes, but I hope to be able to renew my education shortly."

"Ah." Papa hesitates for a moment, and Cosette has a fleeting thought that he may be softening his outlook on Marius. "And why did you run into financial difficulty? Did you squander your money?"

So much for Papa softening.

"No, sir." Marius' head comes up, his lips drawing back from his teeth briefly in a show of anger.

An almost animalistic show of anger, and Cosette tenses, straightening in her own seat, trying to signal with her eyes that Marius should be careful.

Marius glances at her, his head tilting slightly to the side, and then hunches down again, his eyes fixed sullenly on his plate. "My grandfather and I had a falling out. It meant that I have no allowance, and am left to my own devices to find food, shelter, and education."

"Your grandfather? Not your parents?"

"My parents are both dead, sir." Marius raises his eyes again, and he looks very human this time. Very young and very human, sorrow in the firm set of his mouth, in the way his eyebrows sit, and she very much wants to reach across the table and touch him.

That wouldn't be proper, though. Instead she turns to her father, who looks honestly regretful now. Not as regretful as he could, though, and she allows the sorrow she feels over Marius' situation to bleed into her voice, knowing the effect it will have on him. "See, papa, why I told you not to interrogate him? Now you've caused our guest distress. This isn't what I was hoping for at all when you said that I could host a small party."

"I'm fine, Cosette." Marius half-stands from his seat, expression distressed. "Truly, I've been enjoying myself. It's been a great honor to make your father's acquaintance. And yours."

Marius adds the second part hastily, and Cosette tries not to sigh again as she smiles at him. Subterfuge is clearly not Marius' strong point. Neither is blending into human society, and she needs to get him alone for a few moments, to talk with him about how he's been behaving. That will be easier said than done, though, especially given how closely her father is watching Marius.

Thinking quickly, she looks back to her father, the same smile that had settled Marius back in his seat turned on the older man. "I know what we can do, papa. Why don't we finish our cake and then I can show Marius the garden?"

Her father hesitates, looking between Marius and her with something approaching suspicion. "It's cold, Cosette. I doubt that Marius would like to go out in the cold."

"But it's beautiful!" There's no need to feign emotion with this protest. "Even in the snow, it's beautiful, and I want to show it to him."

"I'm fine going outside, sir." Marius sits up a bit straighter, a smile gracing his features for the first time all afternoon. "If it's all right with you."

"The two of you can't go alone." The look that Papa turns on Marius is half-furious, and Cosette doesn't understand why he seems so determined to hate the man. "I'll come, as well."

"That's fine." Trying not to let her smile fade, Cosette takes another bite of her cake. "It will be fun."

At least it will be a change of pace from the tension around the table, and hopefully there will be a moment for her to talk with Marius.

If there's not, she'll just have to meet him in the garden at night and talk about how to make the next meeting between him and her father less awkward.

She's at least fairly certain there's no way he could make it more awkward than it already is.

XXX

Valjean walks at Cosette's side, between her and Marius, as Cosette gives Marius a tour of the garden.

Marius seems to hang on her every word, a smile on his face as he watches her, and Valjean finds he doesn't like it. Then again, he finds that he doesn't like much about the young man. There's something… off about the way that Marius reacts to things. When they had been interacting at church it had been subtle things, a wariness to Marius' stance, a skittery alertness and awareness of everything around him that had reminded Valjean far too strongly of some of the men he'd shared prison time with. All of his instincts tell him that this is a young man with something to hide.

A young man whose main interest is clearly in Cosette, his eyes following her, his actions having mimicked her when they had been at the table, and Valjean is very nearly certain he would damn himself before allowing anything harmful to come near Cosette.

Though it is hard to imagine this youth being dangerous. He speaks well, as a gentleman would speak, with references that betray his education. His clothes are neat, well-cleaned and well-fitted, though Valjean suspects he has very few of them given how frequently he wears the same outfit. He is polite in his conversation, both to Cosette and to Valjean—deferential, even, in his speech to Valjean.

It doesn't make sense. It won't come together into a proper whole. Why does the educated young aristocrat watch the world around him as though it were filled with enemies? Why does he bow and scrape to Valjean, the picture of a man beaten into submission, when Valjean has seen him stare down others who attempted to approach him at church?

Why is he so fixated on Cosette?

Whatever the reason, whatever the answers to the questions, they all point to one thing. This young man is strange. He is dangerous. Even if there are perfectly mundane reasons for his interest in Cosette, the possibility he brings of questions—questions that Valjean does not wish to, will not answer—is painful to consider.

This youth must not be allowed near Cosette.

"Ah, but that was glorious fun!" Their circuit of the garden done, Cosette leads them back to the door, grinning brightly. Her arm is hooked with Valjean's, but she cranes around him to smile at Marius. "Did you enjoy yourself, Marius?"

"Yes." Marius meets her eyes evenly, something he hasn't done with Valjean since shortly after their first meeting, a gentle smile on his face. "Your garden is beautiful, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon."

"An afternoon that must, I fear, come to an end." Valjean forces a smile onto his face as he looks at Marius.

Marius drops his head down, his gaze falling to the ground, his shoulders hunching forward. "As you wish, sir. Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your company, and of your daughter's company."

A brief flicker of guilt flares in Valjean as he studies the boy. What has he done, to instill such fear in the lad? What has happened in Marius' life to make him like this? Whatever has happened to Marius, though, it is not Valjean's fault. "It has been an enlightening afternoon."

"An afternoon we shall have to repeat in the near future." Cosette disengages her arm from his, turning a sullen, hurt look on him. "Perhaps on a day when it is warmer, and everyone is in a better mood. I fear I have failed, somewhat, in my duty as lady of the house."

"How?" Marius' voice is puzzled as he lifts his eyes to study Cosette.

"Never, my dear." Valjean replies at the same time as Marius, turning to fix the boy with a searching look that only causes Marius to drop his head again. "You have done a fine job."

"I have done what I could, given how infrequently we have visitors." A bit of a smile returns to Cosette's face as she studies Marius. "And I do suppose I've managed to make our guest happy. Still, I would much prefer to have everyone present enjoying themselves, and thus I request an encore event. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Marius starts to nod and then shakes his head, his golden-brown hair falling about his head in disarray, something akin to panic spreading over his features. "Tomorrow would not be a good day, unfortunately. Perhaps next week?"

Cosette stares at Marius for a moment before nodding. "Perhaps Sunday. We can come home together after church. That would be fine, right, father?"

Valjean glares at Marius, trying to think of possible reasons for his refusal, finding none of them to his liking.

"Father." Cosette touches his arm. "Please. Allow me this indulgence. How am I ever to properly host parties if I can't entertain even a single guest?"

Valjean sighs, feeling his refusal melt away under the weight of her stare. This is merely a social opportunity to Cosette, a chance to practice fully her skills as a young woman, and it is only his poor luck that has landed them with Marius as her test subject. Perhaps they can find some other young women at church for Cosette to befriend, to give her the opportunity for talk and friendship that she is clearly looking for, and she will forget all about Marius. "As you wish, child. Next Sunday will be just fine."

Marius takes his leave after that, with a grave dignity that doesn't fit with the skittishness that came before, and Valjean and Cosette retire to the library, Cosette to read while Valjean considers, once more, possible ways he can drive Marius away without disheartening Cosette.

He will protect Cosette, from his past and hers, but he will not do it at the cost of her happiness.

XXX

Courfeyrac stays with Grantaire until Bossuet gets home, then hands the slowly-sobering submissive over to him before heading out. Courfeyrac and Enjolras had had a busy night, meeting with a few nervous potential allies who hadn't been willing to wait until after the full moon. They had shown their new friends some of their pamphlets, discussed potential future meetings, tentatively sounded out the availability of weapons and the willingness of their new allies to fight, and eventually parted, long after midnight. Enjolras had decided to attend lectures anyway, despite having perhaps three hours of sleep; Courfeyrac had elected to stay in bed instead. Enjolras has a tendency to take more concise notes than he does, anyway, and will undoubtedly share them if asked. Getting to take care of Grantaire had been an unexpected bonus to staying home, but Courfeyrac's glad he was here for the submissive, even if he doesn't know what they're going to do about him.

That's a question for another day, though. What Courfeyrac intends to do right now is find the pack's other stray, ensure that Grantaire told him nothing dangerous, and then try to gently enquire as to Marius' preparations for the full moon. Marius had spent the last full moon with the pack, citing a desire to ensure that no one at his lodging-house had reason to become suspicious of him so shortly after he moved in, but has made no overture toward them for this full moon. Hopefully it's simply that Marius is now feeling comfortable in his new den; if, for some strange reason, he instead hasn't approached them because of fear of their pack, Courfeyrac intends to disabuse him of that notion quickly.

Courfeyrac finds Marius in his rooms. The male wolf calls out for Courfeyrac to enter, and Courfeyrac does to find Marius sitting on his bed, a book open before him, frowning at it intently.

Smiling, closing the door behind him, Courfeyrac crosses to Marius' side and perches next to him. The book is a piece of fiction, perhaps ten years old, not well-respected but endlessly entertaining in its depiction of human courtship. Courfeyrac grins, barely resisting the urge to lean his head against Marius. If Marius were pack, he would, but the stray tends to get uncomfortable if Courfeyrac acts too familiarly toward him, Marius' instincts undoubtedly telling him that the pack is dangerous even if his reason tells him that Courfeyrac wouldn't hurt him. Ah, the difficulties of being a stray. "You seem confused."

"I am confused." Marius closes the book with a sigh and sets it aside. "It seems to be my natural state of being around humans."

Tilting his head to the side, Courfeyrac props his head on his fists and studies Marius. "Having a bit of trouble with one of your pupils?"

"Just…" Marius flushes slightly. "Just having trouble with humans. They're so strange! I did well enough when I was living as a stray before, but I was mainly trying not to draw their attention, to avoid them. Trying to talk with and interact with them on their terms is… frustrating."

"And so you turn to fiction to try to give you an idea of how to behave. That is creative and adaptive of you." Courfeyrac raises his head and lowers his hands to his lap. "But I've found that the best way to learn to interact with humans is to simply interact with them."

"That… hasn't gone as well as I had hoped." Misery fills Marius' voice, and if he were in his fur his ears would be pulled back and his tail hanging low. "Why would a human not like me, Courfeyrac? What do I do that would frighten one or make me seem… undesirable?"

"I suppose it depends on the human in question." Shrugging, Courfeyrac reaches out to pat Marius' shoulder. "Some humans simply won't like you because your personalities are incompatible, just like you won't like some wolves you meet. Others… ah, it really depends. What situation are we talking about, Marius?"

Marius raises his head, his eyes darting to the left, staring past Courfeyrac, showing his status as non-submissive, as non-pack, though if he were pack Courfeyrac would be the more dominant. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to.

Sighing, Courfeyrac pulls his hand back. "You don't have to tell me. I'm not here to police your social life, Marius. I simply meant that if you're having difficulties, the more details you can give me, the better I can help you with whatever your problem is."

"I just… don't understand how you do it. Whenever I see you with humans, you always seem to fit. You always seem to belong there, even though you shouldn't." Marius' hands clench into fists for a moment. "It's very… frustrating."

"Yes. You said that before." Standing, Courfeyrac paces the confines of Marius' small lodgings, trying to let the male relax by giving him more space. "I can't tell you how to interact with all humans. I've a different idea. Why don't you accompany me tomorrow? I can take you to meet some of my human friends, and perhaps give you a better idea of what you're doing wrong. In the morning or afternoon, of course, given that it's the full moon. Which had been my initial reason for coming! Do you wish to join us for the full moon again?"

"Ah…" Marius blinks. "If I accompany you in the afternoon, do I have to stay with the pack for the full moon?"

"No." Offering a fond smile to the male, Courfeyrac gives an exasperated shake of his head. "Of course you don't. If you're more comfortable here, then please, stay here. Just so long as you have somewhere safe to Change, I'm happy."

"I'll be safe." Marius' eyes drop slightly as he speaks, making Courfeyrac frown.

"You will be careful, right?" Keeping his voice gentle, Courfeyrac moves forward so that he can touch Marius' shoulder. With humans he can resist touching, if needed, though he's found that most humans actually seem to respond well to physicality if it's presented in the right way; with wolves it's much harder for him to resist touching them.

Marius, thankfully, doesn't seem to mind the touch, leaning into it. A smile touches his face for the first time since Courfeyrac walked into the room. "I will be both safe and careful. I promise you that."

"Good." Courfeyrac settles down next to Marius again. "Then let's plan for tomorrow, and see what fun we can have!"

XXX

"You should talk to him." Combeferre's voice is a quiet whisper, for Enjolras' ears only.

Enjolras can feel his jaw tense as he considers the suggestion. He knows it's true. He's been trying to decide how to approach Grantaire ever since his concentration was broken by the submissive's panic in the early afternoon, and he's no closer to a conclusion now than he was before.

He doesn't understand Grantaire. He thought he did, when Grantaire asked to join the pack. He thought that he saw potential in Grantaire, a potential that simply needed time and a safe environment in which to grow. He still thinks he does, often, but every time he starts hoping that Grantaire will live up to his potential the male does something like he did yesterday.

Grantaire failed in his task. That would have been disappointing but acceptable. The half-drunken apology that followed was embarrassing but, he supposed at the time, understandable, his mind awash in the sorrow and dismay that filled Grantaire's heart.

Grantaire didn't stop then, though. He continued to drink, to rant and ramble until Enjolras had left with Courfeyrac, and he had run off before morning was even properly started. Given the state of their pack-bond in the afternoon, most likely he left to drink again.

Does he not understand what's needed? That can't be it. Enjolras is quite certain that Grantaire is intelligent, and thus he should be intelligent enough to understand that his actions are only compounding the problem.

He can feel Grantaire's eyes on him. The submissive has been with Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta since Enjolras joined the pack in the Musain. Grantaire's drinking again, his voice rising to cut across other conversations, and Enjolras feels his jaw clenching tighter as a part of him tries to consider the drunken rambling as a positive development. Grantaire is talking, at least, ignoring the rules of hierarchy, any submission he would normally intentionally feign lost.

He needs to talk to the male.

He needs to find a way to help Grantaire.

How did one go about helping someone who seemed unwilling to help themself, though? He will not order Grantaire to do anything against his will, not unless the pack's general safety is at risk, and if it comes to that…

If it comes to that, he made a mistake in accepting Grantaire as pack.

He doesn't think he did, but perhaps that's just naïve hope talking.

The decision to remove Grantaire from the pack isn't one he will consider today, though. Today he will simply try, once more, to talk to the submissive about his behavior, because unresolved as the issue is it's a strain on the pack, and putting off talking with Grantaire will only make things worse. Decision made, Enjolras rises from his usual place at Combeferre's table and makes his way to where Grantaire is sitting.

Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta find business elsewhere before he even says anything to them. It seems to take Grantaire a few seconds to realize he's lost his audience, though it shouldn't be a difficult conclusion for him to reach. Especially not since Grantaire's eyes have been focused on Enjolras since Enjolras arrived, meaning there's no possible way he missed Enjolras' approach.

"Alpha." Grantaire raises his glass in toast, a slight, bitter smile on his face. His head dips down, his eyes dropping in perfect submission, and though it shouldn't it makes Enjolras' fur attempt to bristle. "Have you come to chastise me for my failings? I do understand them, you know, and recognize that they are many. So visit your wrath upon me, Themis. I know that you hesitated in granting me a task. You should have trusted to your prophetic vision more. It is that vision which guides the pack, after all, and—"

"Grantaire." Enjolras breaks in quietly, cutting off the increasingly slurred stream of words. "What happened yesterday is done. We discussed it yesterday. It has no bearing on today."

"Ah, but it has every bearing on today! Failure begets failure, though success also has a sad tendency to beget failure. One need only look at history to recognize that. Perhaps it would even be more accurate to say that failure is the default state, with success being a temporary anomaly, a strange phenomenon that the universe quickly rectifies once it is recognized." Grantaire takes another drink, though his hands are shaking already. "It would—"

"It would seem that you are too drunk for this conversation. Again." He can keep the disappointment from his voice, but not from his mind, not from the pack-bond that Grantaire is suddenly scrabbling at with frantic need, and Enjolras watches as Grantaire flinches back, huddling down in his seat.

"I know I've no right to be here. I know I've no right to associate with you and yours." Grantaire's eyes are fixed on the tabletop. "Send me away, Enjolras. Do you think I haven't seen you considering it, felt it through the pack-bonds? I am a nuisance. I am a hazard. So send me away. Correct the mistake that granted me happiness for a short time. Finish—"

"Do you really think me that callous and cruel?" Enjolras reaches across the table, lifts Grantaire's head so that he can meet the submissive wolf's eyes evenly. "If you wish to leave, I will cut the pack-bond in a moment. If you are a danger to the pack, I will do what must be done. If others in the pack wished for you to be gone, I would attempt to mediate, and if no mediation were possible I would put it to a vote. None of these things are true, and yet you attack me with your fears as though they were. Why?"

Grantaire swallows, hard, and shakes his head, pulling away from Enjolras' touch. When Enjolras continues to watch him, the submissive eventually shrugs, hunching down until he's nearly prostrate on the table. "I feel it should be true. I feel your anger, Enjolras, your disappointment, and I would save myself a long slide into suffering and despair. Finish it now."

"You would hang yourself to prevent an execution when you haven't even been arrested yet, let alone tried." Enjolras pulls his hand back to his side, studying the stray, pity and frustration mingling together in his heart, neither an emotion that he should send at the male right now. "Don't you see that you're causing that which you fear? There's no need for this, Grantaire. You are pack. You are accepted. You—"

"I am still defective. I am still the one who won't submit, who gives insult after insult even to his friends. I am still the one who fails to understand you, who hangs on your every word and yet can't find even a glimmer of that shining light in my own oration even when I am trying. I am still the one who drinks, to the point where he can't even feel his pack-mates the way he should." Another bitter smile pulls at Grantaire's mouth, and Enjolras finds himself leaning away as a wave of frustration and despair rolls out from the stray.

The sensations are muddled, pained, incomprehensible thoughts too alcohol-soaked for him to sort through properly, and they swamp his bond with Grantaire. He finds himself reaching for the rest of the pack, instinctively, pulling Combeferre and Courfeyrac's emotions close to him, touching each of his bonds to the others, and he can tell from the silence in the room that everyone noticed.

"I can't even apologize properly." Grantaire turns his face away. "And for that, as well as for everything else, I am sorry, Enjolras."

"You are a member of the pack." Enjolras speaks slowly. This is a part of an alpha's job, mediating between pack members, correcting annoyances, ending quarrels, but it is not a part he has had to do often, and he finds himself sorely out of his depth. Best to start from simple truths, then, and work his way out to a conclusion from there. "Do you still wish to be a part of this pack?"

Grantaire hesitates, and for a moment Enjolras considers that the male might say no. Then he raises his head, just the faintest hint of subversiveness in his smile, and raises his glass in toast. "Yes. I will stay until such time as I am told to leave."

"And you still hold to your oaths?" Enjolras ignores the addendum to the answer as he ignores the glass. "To give your loyalty to the pack and to our causes?"

"Yes." Grantaire whispers the word, a ghost of the sheer ecstasy that had flooded through him when he became pack brushing Enjolras' mind, and pity quickly eclipses all other emotions.

The world is broken. Broken worlds produced broken people, but there is still a light struggling to burn in Grantaire's heart, and it is not something that Enjolras will give up on so easily. "I will not tell you to leave, Grantaire, unless you are a danger to the pack. You fit in well with us, when you allow it. We are all fond of you. There are things that you need to fix. You need to be more reliable. You need to drink less. But these are not problems that necessitate your leaving the pack. And if there is anything we can do to help you, anything at all, simply say the word. The pack protects its own, but we will not force anything upon you."

He thinks, for a moment, that Grantaire intends to ask him for something. Then the male shakes his head before tilting his chin to the side, exposing his neck in intentional submission and trust. "I will do better in the future, Enjolras, I promise."

Enjolras inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment of the gesture, stands, and returns to his place at Combeferre's side.

Combeferre studies him, searchingly, and Enjolras can feel his beta's concern flow along their pack-bond.

"I wasn't wrong." He glances toward Grantaire as he speaks, though he knows there can be no doubt about what he's addressing. "I wasn't wrong, accepting him into the pack."

A gentle smile graces Combeferre's face, and his head comes to rest against Enjolras' shoulder as they turn back to their work. "I haven't said you were, and I doubt that I'll say it in the future."

It's a small thing, but somehow it's a comfort, and Enjolras throws himself back into their work with eager abandon, trying hard not to notice the way Grantaire's eyes continue to bore into him throughout the evening.

XXX

"Well?" Bellamy watches his delta and beta, knowing from the way Sean's grinning and the way Yves' body is taut with tension that they've found something.

"He's trespassed. Oh, he's trespassed many times." Sean practically growls the words despite his human form, and Bellamy can feel the urge to hunt straining at his control. "Into Geroux's territory, mainly. I couldn't follow any of the scents properly, he never just stays on the neutral trails, but he's been there, I can guarantee that much."

"Anyone with him?" Rolling his head on his neck, Bellamy resists the urge to bear his teeth, pushing back the itching desire to hunt that thinking of the stray brings. Perhaps the desire will fade once the full moon has passed; perhaps it won't, and Bellamy will have to put the excess energy to use.

"He travels with Enjolras' gamma on occasion." Yves is the one who answers, the female keeping a hand on Sean's shoulder. "As well as with Enjolras' lambda."

Lambda. Such a ridiculous rank to have, though it fits the strange beast that Enjolras added to his menagerie most recently, and Bellamy finds his lip curling in disdain at the thought of the submissive who doesn't submit. "Do they ever trespass with the stray?"

"Not that I can prove." Sean growls. "Give me time and opportunity to follow the scent-trails, and I'll find where they've done it."

"I don't think they've trespassed." Yves speaks quietly, ignoring the way that Sean growls in frustration. "I think only the stray has. Every time we found his scent crossing from neutral to owned territory, it was alone, had been alone so far as we could tell. I don't think Enjolras knows what the stray's doing."

Bellamy considers the information for a moment before shrugging. "It doesn't matter. He granted the stray leave to stay on his land; he's responsible for the stray and his crimes."

"But will the other alphas see it that way?" Yves continues to stroke Sean's hair, the female calming his mate through physical comfort as much as possible. "If you intend to force a vote that Enjolras won't like, then you need to be certain of your allies."

"I don't intend to leave the matter just to a vote, though I suspect I'd have more support than normal. Geroux will be as displeased as I am about having his territory boundaries blatantly ignored. Enjolras' usual base will be fragmented. Still, best not to leave things solely up to politics. They're so… messy. So human." Bellamy begins to pace back and forth across their common room. "The stray's trespassed multiple times. He'll do so again. I want us to be prepared for it."

"He was trespassing at a church." Sean scratches fiercely behind his ear, finally interrupting his rolling growl to offer the suggestion. "Humans tend to go to church on Sunday, right?"

"Sunday…" Bellamy pauses in his pacing. "The scent on the church could have come from Sunday."

Another low growl rolls from Sean.

"Will Enjolras care if we attack the stray?" Yves tilts his head down, properly submissive, though Bellamy can feel the urge to hunt building in the entire pack, even the three who aren't currently in their common room.

"He offered the stray shelter. We'll be making him look bad, making his word unreliable." Rubbing his chin fiercely against Yves' shoulder, Sean glances up at Bellamy. "Unless you've a better plan?"

Bellamy considers before smiling. "Perhaps. It will rely on a bit of luck, but we might be able to use the stray and his transgressions to snag prey that Enjolras won't be able to ignore so easily."