A while back, Raubritter's realgar grandson (the one with the bright blue painted claws) got put up for sale at the trading center. We didn't have room for a new pack member; all our hunting teams were full, and our scout slots were booked for years to come. Also, the asking price was extravagant. But often, Raubritter would go visit the trading center ("just to check," he said, although he never said what he was checking on), walking a route that would take him past his grandson's spot. Sometimes he would leave with a big bone, and return without it.
Yesterday Raubritter went on his usual circuit and found his grandson gone.
Fenrir made discreet inquiries around the trading center. Apparently, the guy's pack leader got tired of him not selling and straight up chased him out of the den. The guy was nearly two years old and never even got a name.
Raubritter's been in a towering rage since then. Zinfandel, who oversees the pack's finances and urged against getting the boy in the first place, is feeling guilty about the whole affair—maybe we should've made space for him? Hired him as a spare pupsitter?
