Otter Creek You will kill or be killed, it's about progress

Vaati had not given much thought to how different Blackfeather was in comparison to the many other territories and packs that lived out there on the horizon. When one lived among the strange and twisted all their life, nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. Perhaps that was good. It gave perspective, meaning to what individuality meant. He considers it now, as the other inquires, and he wonders just how different it may be, how strangers must wrongly view his home. 

The yearling returns his gaze to the man before him, giving time for thought before opening his mouth. "Humbling." He speaks truthfully, for in the darkness did they learn the truth of their own mortality. Unfortunately, he had been too rebellious in his early stages of life, too detached from Blackfeather and its essence to take seriously the frailty of his existence. But the woods itself, lined with the remains of those too hot-headed to remain living served as a reminder that life itself was fleeting, and ultimately signified nothing if one was too careless with it. He is careful now, not to take for granted what he has, and it is difficult to live with the consequences of what he had done, but does so anyway. The woods has taught him that, to live with the shadows on his back and walk boldly into the dark. "It reminds us that no one is immortal, the perpetual darkness comes for us all eventually." The tone he takes is not somber, regardless of the mood it creates. Instead, it is simple honesty that coats his words, spoken as if he has lived and learned it. Yet, he leaves out the bit that scares most away. How that when they live in the dark and their eyes adjust to the absence of light, something takes over, something evil and hungry that demands blood for the life they choose to live.