Emberwood being born with a talent or an inclination for goodness is the aberration

Agreement came only after Wulf had resigned himself to continue on, convinced his presence was undesired and better had elsewhere. But, like a marionette, it came with strings.

"And I will replace it just as quickly. There is truly no rest for the wicked..."

Ah. He believed the words a half truth, at best. There was no rest for any of them. His paws knew the soil of many lands and, the residents of all shared the same suffering. Unless to be alive was to be inherently rotten on the inside - a theroy which Æthelwulf wouldn't be stunned to find true - torment new no preference. It sunk its claws into the soft belly of any who dared to expose it, even if just for a moment.

That didn't stop him from asking, words no less gentle than the white noise of ocean waves against sandy shores.

 "Are you wicked?"