It wasn't long after Mattias' arrival in the Vale that he gathered his thoughts, his brooding anger, and decided that he would seek out the audience of his sister.  He had waited at first to see if she would come to him herself but a few days wait was enough for him.  Her cowardice was only making him angrier.

He raised his maw to the air and let out a low and chilly howl.  Although his soft-hearted sibling might have desired privacy for their conversation, he knew he would be tempted to punish her if they were alone.  His guard hairs stood on point as he waited to be graced with her presence, tail erect although he was in this pack a lower position than the siren.  He was not fond of the ethereal persona she had adopted to make herself at home in the Vale, so coy and intimate, but it seemed at least that she had been doing well.

To a point, it pleased him that she was making her way up the ranks so quickly, putting herself to use just like they had been raised.  Yet he wondered absently if she had earned it or if perhaps she were using alternate methods of climbing the totem pole, such as many women in Keening Sound had done — the Brienne he knew wouldn't, however this was not the girl he grew up next to; what was he to expect of her anymore?

He threw the thought aside.  It was a matter for another time, what his sister did with her womb mattered little to him at the moment — he wanted her justification for tearing their family apart.

In the back of her mind, she knew it was only a matter of time before the brute who called himself her brother summoned her to his side.  In reality there was no denying their relation — he was only a darker, fuller version of his sister — but she had spent so long racked with loneliness for the family she couldn't remember that she didn't know what or even how to feel when he appeared at the borders.

It was true that she had been avoiding him.  She didn't know what to say to him, she didn't know how to tell him that she did indeed recognize him, in the way he looked and smelled (oh the way he smelled!) but she did not particularly remember him in the fond way he probably expected of her.  But what could she do but succumb to his will?  The dark boy was the only blood she knew she had and she was not quick to spurn him no matter the confusion she felt, especially since he had traveled from lord-knows-where searching for her  The yearling barreled towards him, and the steady ba-dunk! of her heart increased rapidly as she approached, bristling with excitement.

She was nearly ready to run into him and bury her head in his chest, but her heart caught in her throat as she saw his angry form waiting for her instead.  The leggy girl skid to a halt in front of him, still closing the distance and licking at his chin and lips as her ears swiveled back on her head, tail brushing rapidly against her hocks.  What did he need her for — why was he angry, what could she do to assuage him?