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The female did not seem to be his biggest fan. He was torn on how he felt about that. On the one hand, she was creeping him out. She was like a spider, all thin and spindly. But there was also something that intrigued the yearling about her. Something that was confusing,exciting, and mostly disturbing. But also something he was going to ignore for now, as she'd passed the decision about his acceptance to Jorunn - Shit, Kjalarr - instead.

Whittier was tempted to feel relief at this, but was not entirely certain that this was necessarily a good thing. His brother was well aware of his limitations, having been one of the ones to compensate for his mishaps and shortcomings during the time they'd spent growing up together. Truth be told, Jo-FFFF-Kjalarr wasn't even his real brother. Whittier had never considered that to matter before, but suddenly he was beginning to worry that maybe it did. Dire times brought out odd thoughts, apparently.

The boy looked almost surprised when his brother declared him to be worthy of joining the ranks of the pack. He went on to mention punishment, and while usually Whit would have agreed that any form of actual work was indeed a form of slow torture, it didn't sound bad at all if it meant that he would have a regular place to sleep, and the constant company of familiar faces.

"Thank you," the Frostfur replied, smiling briefly until he caught sight of the spider's scowl (assuming it hadn't gone anywhere). The words of gratitude for being given the opportunity came to his mind, along with words about how he wouldn't let them down. But he deemed the latter to be likely a blatant lie, and the former unneccessary. Instead, he remained crouched until he was lead into his new home. A member he may now be, but that didn't mean he was ever about to let his guard down around the spider - a nickname that had apparently stuck. Hopefully never to actually be uttered aloud. Fuckkk what had he gotten himself into...