Blackfeather Woods I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour

She insisted on not wanting Potema, but Ramsay wasn't convinced yet, nor was he going to push it. Euron cared about Potema's opinion of him as well, and he didn't think less of either his brother or his sister for it. That he couldn't care less about her was a gift that only he seemed to be able to appreciate for now. Eventually, perhaps they would join him in that, and they could put her and her negligence behind them for good.

Until such a time as she bared her throat, that is.

He hadn't realized how much time had passed since he was in his sister's company for more than a few moments. Ramsay spent a lot of his time near the pack fringes of late; when not there, he was in the glen, but Maegi often spent her days on the eastern side of the territory, where the daedra were closer. "Your eyes are different," he noted, only now realizing for the first time that they didn't match one another. They were like Euron's that way, but different as well, uniquely Maegi. Ramsay, save for his squashed physique, was nothing individual or unique, but he would one day be proud to wear the Melonii colours.

"Been at the borders, and learning to stalk," said Ramsay, though mostly it was the former. The latter was more of a personal game that he only did when he wanted to try to be like Euron. "War is coming," he informed her offhandedly, but surely their gods had told her of that. They spoke only to her of their litter. "What have you been doing?" he echoed back, tilting his head childishly.