Otter Creek A Trophy Father's Trophy Son

You can go ahead and archive this after your next post. c:

The man pulled his ears back ever so slightly when he saw the scowl settle onto Burke's face. The usually so well-composed and calm wolf actually seemed annoyed, or perhaps even angry, to some degree. He knew one 'sorry' wouldn't cut it, but it was at least a start. Had the man been Niklas or Jan, or maybe even his sister, their differences would have been settled differently, but that couldn't be done. Kove had accused the older wolf of something, he'd taken the word of someone he'd only met once before even hearing his Brother out. It was almost an unspeakable thing to do, and he felt ashamed for having down so. “I know a single apology will not make up for my actions, but I really am sorry,” he voiced. He was unsure how he could make up for what he'd done, but was sure something would eventually come to mind. Though offended by his comment after having heard how terrible his blood brother had been, the Inuit man said nothing in response to that. He had no right to openly take offense, as his accusations had been far worse than what the tank had said.

Kove felt a low growl rising in his throat, but shoved it back down before a single sound could escape him. From the way the words sounded, it seemed as if Burke was actually willing to kill his own son, or at least harm him, if he ever came around. The pale being had warned the younger male of the danger when he'd met him, though, so he hoped the boy would heed his warning and stay away. Deep down, however, he knew that would never happen. “You would harm one of your own blood?” the man inquired, even though he was certain he already knew the answer. Even if the memories of the tank's old home where bad ones, harming one of his own blood still seemed far too extreme. Then again, Kove couldn't relate to the time of place he'd come from. His old home had been a closely knit family, and though fights occasionally broke out over silly things and his father had been strict in teaching him the ways of Inuit men and of a leader, nothing overly horrible such as Burke's situation had ever broken out.

He didn't particularly appreciate the dismissive tone his fellow Brother took with him, but, once again, did not voice his own complaint. He started passed the grey man, but stopped shortly after and glanced over his shoulder. “For both your sake and his, I hope the inevitable meeting with your son goes well,” he stated, turning away from the other towards the ending of his words. “Even if you don't recognize him as your own, he is still family to you, and I doubt killing a member of your family is something anyone can live with—even someone like yourself.” With that, he continued walking without a second glance back, heading straight towards the shadow-filled forest. As he walked, he worked to clear his head of the encounter and talk with Burke. He was going to meet Damien, after all, and didn't want to risk bringing the boy down with his thoughts and opinions.