Dylan, who had been quiet since Carlson spoke, snickered.
"Someone's eating sour grapes!" He muttered and Derek made a sharp turn towards him.
"What did you say?"
"I want to eat sour grapes!" He rephrased while darting his eyes to the side. Derek kept his suspicious eyes on him but decided to let it be... For the moment!
"How are the werewolves?" He suddenly questioned.
"Oh!" Dylan scratched the back of his head. "You know, the usuals! Sports are what they do so I tend to keep my eyes on the arena and rings!" He reported and Derek went into thinking again. "Anything wrong?"
"I need a werewolf who's strong physically and mentally!" He said. "Any ideas?"
"Unless you're talking about Edgar, I don't think there's any other." Dylan mentioned. "But Edgar's a little bit cranky. He's not an easy mutt and he's the Alpha so, I don't think it'll be easy to get him over to our side!"
"Are you sure there's no other one?"
