Hearing Aeolyn speak up behind him in the middle of everything, Alderic grimaced in frustration. He'd given her a direct order, her adherence to which was the basic foundation of the agreement between them- he would have to have words with the young woman about this, if not now, very soon. The Templar had barely a moment to consider his elven charge, however, before an entirely different apostate upped the ante entirely.
"By Andraste!" Alderic growled, surging several steps toward the shape-shifter with his sword-arm snapping back to strike, "I knew-!"
Yet for all his fury, he got no further. His breastplate thudded against Bethen's outstretched hand and the simple gesture turned out to be enough to halt the warrior for that necessary second, to confuse him enough that his feet and his words both faltered. He flicked a glance at the mage, questioning and distinctly recalcitrant. There was something about his fellow Warden that he witnessed in that moment, a wound-tight tension close to the breaking point in her gaze and her body, that convinced the Templar to relent. Had it been anyone else present it would not have been so, but he knew this woman, he trusted her, and if she would say her piece then so be it. Alderic fell naturally into a defensive position, eyes fixing hatefully on the face of the man who- as it turned out- was very, very much not a dog. That the recently furred apostate resembled, in his manner, nothing so much as a hound beaten by his master so many times that he flinches at the raising of a hand... in his righteous anger, Alderic could never have believed that the other men felt regret any more than he could have noticed.
Controlling his ire with difficulty, Alderic scowled in response to the comment the Chasind made last, seemingly directed to the pair of apostates. It did more harm than good to his opinion of the strange woman (his memory still devoid of recognition) that the two had spoken in her defense, his mind running wild with suspicion. "Wilder, you know this-" he sputtered, his vocabulary ill-equipped to find an appropriately foul cussword, "-man?" His narrowed eyes swerved to find Aeolyn "And you! What is your involvement in this?"
The Templar's heated gaze returned to the wolf-man, and he pointed his sword at the man as one would point a finger in condemnation. Shrugging off Bethen's earlier gesture of restraint, he paced forward, closing the distance between he and the naked blonde with obvious purpose.
"Am I meant to believe that you're a sheep in wolf's clothing, apostate?" he snarled, brandishing his weapon at the man's throat- yet still, despite his indignation, restraining himself carefully from striking a blow.