Blackfeather Woods the old gods and the new

Tired, angered and cornered against Astrid's wishes, Damien had little else to do than stand down. His growl grows thinner until the rumble in his chest dies out, and his stance releases the tension it's been holding to. But his eyes, pale, cold, mad to exorbitant reaches, hold Atshen's gaze without a single drop of compassion.His voice, directed at Nyx, is low and paused, yet clear and assuring.

"Then he is your burden. I have spoken my will and I will not allow Nemesis' loyalists to stay in my forest,"

Damien had no patience left for traitors. Burke, Akela, Grimnir, an endless list of disgraceful bastards, all of them had dug a little deeper into that wound that Bane had opened the day he left and he was done putting up with it. Atshen could stay as long as he was obedient, but he would hardly, if ever, hold any of Damien's trust. He would always be on the edge.