Blackfeather Woods I know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder

"Hm." Euron mulled as his brother compared their mother Potema to Sithis. The boy was aware of who Sithis was and what Sithis stood for but none of the gods occupied a significant part of his mind. He had no care for these intangible things. But he agreed with the comparison his brother drew — and the correction he made that Potema was not a mother.

"So she dies?"

Euron smiled darkly, meeting his brother's eyes as if he was about to make a profound promise.

In a way, he was.

"I hope so... I will eat her eyes first."

The boy heh'ed once, quietly, and then cast his gaze around them. "The wolf that Potema was talking to," he began. He would never call her mother again. "He was white. With gray spots. He talked about a mountain pack called Moonspear." He had talked about other packs, too, but this was the name that seemed most relevant. "I want to know who he is. I want to know why Potema cared about him but not us."