How unfortunate it was that the girl had been spared. He wonders how she would feel knowing she that her death - or lack of - would have saved another from his bloody crusade. It did not bother him, the tides of fate would return a victim to him in the place of the wench who had remarkably escaped his wrath. The events of the day sent his mind adrift, his focus bouncing around from introspective idea to the next like he was shot out into open space with no gravity to hold him down. Fantasions of reclaiming the dark woods and executing those who betrayed him hit him out of nowhere and all too harrowingly; indulging too much, too soon. He would not allow himself to entertain ideas that had once become his downfall, ideas that he knew were the delirious side effects of bloodlust rather than concrete goals. 

But his self-assurance that Blackfeather Woods meant less than dirt to him did not help his curiosity. No sooner did he find himself lingering only a few yards out from its borders, standing without expression as he stared silently at the ruins of his former glory. He felt many things at once, but yet, felt nothing at all. The shadowed structure in the distance meant nothing to him, yet everything at once. It was his legacy, but it was his death. The sentiment churned something dark within him, and following a small voice of caution within his mind, he turned the other way and began to slowly retreat from the wood's sight. It was then the scent hit of the man hit him, rendering him frozen dead in his footsteps, utterly haunted by the memories that flooded back in its wake.

"They do not expect your return, nephew."

Vaati turned to cast his eyes upon the estranged man, unable to feel the sense of familiarity he knows he should with the other. The sentence alone was likely the most words his uncle had ever spoken to him in his life, he briefly considered, and instantly felt that his distant expression was justified. "And they should not." He snapped coldly, vividly recalling the events that caused him to hold such a disdain for the woods he once called home. Utterances of broken promises and owed remorse meant nothing to the man. Not now, not when Vaati had long grown out of expecting apologies from anyone that had wronged him. While it would have been easy to blame his uncle for allowing his mother to fall from grace, Vaati knew quite clearly that Potema had dug her own grave and had laid quite contently in it. In the end, Vaati had found his own way in the world, without the guidance of anyone. It had destroyed him, forced him to grow up faster than he deserved, and ultimately wrecked what chance he had to become more than the Woods demanded... but nevertheless, it had made him stronger. 

"Is she alive?" The question broke minute of the silence that had settled between them, for the answer was perhaps the only thing he considered to be of some value to him that was tied to Blackfeather Woods. His mother, regardless of her abandonment, was still his mother. If she was indeed dead, it would not come as a shock to him. The last he had seen of her was a ghost-like figure, teetering on the edge of reality. She had been wasting away, and Vaati had done little to stop her. She hadn't wanted to be stopped. But what became of her was something he had to know, for his own sake rather than hers.

His mother had abandoned Blackfeather Woods. Either Vaati's absence had truly been so harrowing to the woods, or she was simply, dead. Vaati made his peace with that. Yet what caused him to scoff was not the news of the wood's dwindling numbers - he had expected that - but the talk of the Dark Brotherhood, like it was something to be proud of. Now, it pitifully consisted only of halfwits and the elderly, unable to live up to its reputation nor hold any attention. Blackfeather Woods, the Dark Brotherhood, it was all obsolete in his eyes and existed as nothing more than what the claimed to be. It needed to die, to fizzle out silently, and with it all those who turned their backs on him. "The Dark Brotherhood is a sham, and has been for a very long time. I know where my younger sister is and I could not care less about the rest." His words are cold and unforgiving, holding no impression of doubt or guilt. He means everything he says, and holds no internal qualms about it. "Blackfeather Woods got what was coming to them, and one day they will burn for their betrayal. Take that as you will." In his voice, he holds his own promises. Not vows he is particularly ready to uphold on, but a prophecy that was written in stone and sworn over his soul.

It was interesting to hear that his uncle supported his notions, it wasn't what Vaati expected. Neither did he expect the extending arm of peace to be offered to him, to return to the woods where he was born and died, and burn it to the ground. The latter was all he really yearned for, if he was to be quite honest with himself. If he was to pretend to be in good graces with a few meagre pawns to see Blackfeather crumble... that was something he would not be above. He had once believed that blood ran thicker than all things, but even blood had turned his back on him. Vaati would not play the fool once again and give in so easily to the temptations that had once nearly killed him. There was only one thing that really mattered. "Who sits on the throne?" His inquiry avoided the answering the proposal Damien had laid before him, but neither did he disregard the offer. Placing himself in a position of leadership once more was not worth the trouble and time, but doing what he could to bring ill to the woods was all he had thought of for many months. Perhaps now was the time of follow through, if the cards were laid out in his favour.

The narrowed furrow of his brow is enough to express the point that he is less than pleased at the current leadership arrangement. Kove had stood idly by as Vaati had been challenged by an outsider, someone who had threatened to viciously rape his siblings who were but children at the time. Kove was therein, a traitor in his eyes. A traitor who had been waiting all along for Vaati's downfall, at the expense of the pack's sanctity. Through gritted teeth does Vaati respond, "No, he is not." From a child, Vaati had known the difference between the Melonii bloodline and the commoners. It had been clear that the family who had established the dark woods would always have a place higher than the rest, regardless of rank or skill. Despite having severed ties with the woods, it irked him to the bone that his legacy was now being carried by not only a traitor, but an outsider. Vengeful spirits beckoned him in, whispering fantasies of destruction and chaos descending upon the parasite that was Blackfeather Woods, and he found himself wanting it more than he wanted blood. The pack was struggling, but it was not gone. And Vaati wanted to be the one to do it. "I will burn Blackfeather for you, but my condition is his death. If I join you, I will have his head." Nothing would change the young man's mind, for Damien had planted a spark within his mind that would not slow its burn for anything.

The sharp no presented an issue to Vaati, as he seen no other option that would make way for the demolishment of the Blackfeather Woods. Chopping the head off the leader would be a quick and easy feat, only under the condition that he had the impressive weight of support behind him which would allow him to do so. Vaati could not walk blindly into the dark woods and demand the crown, whilst surrounded by those who had indirectly cast him out and likely, no longer viewed him as one of their own. It was stupid, and stupid was no longer his tactic. "If I challenge him, I cannot promise I won't kill him. If I challenge him and he is banished, I cannot promise I will not hunt him down. That is the way it is, it is what Blackfeather has become." There is no honour among them, not really. The sense of loyalty and duty had no longer existed in Blackfeather Woods when he abandoned their sinking ship, and he held no doubt in his mind that they had not changed. Damien lived in a past life where the Dark Brotherhood meant something to anyone. That was no longer the case, and for those who had been around to see its greatness before its downfall, was a hard pill to swallow. "He is no blood to me, and I am no dark brother. But I will support your claim, and this is the way I will do it... unless blood means less to you than you say." He would not budge, flipping his uncle's words on him to either further drive the wedge between them or come to a compromise. Something needed to be done, something that would rip them apart leaving no chance of putting the pieces back together. Perhaps if Damien did not allow it, he would find a way on his own.

To be frank, Vaati had no interest in serving the dark woods nor its beliefs. What dedication he had for it was in seeing it fall, and by no means did he enjoy entertaining the idea that he would play part in seeing it rise once more. However, what his uncle presented before him was an opportunity to see it do so, only under the condition that he play along quietly. It was fair, he knew that, even if it did not presently suit his desires. Vaati did support Damien’s claim to the dark woods, yet it was foolish to assume that the scale of anarchy they currently devised would go down as any other coup. “Except this is not simply a challenge, uncle, it is a revolution.” And would need to be treated as such. 

“Blackfeather Woods cannot be rebuilt unless it is first destroyed… and I will not wait around for that traitor’s natural death to see it come to pass.” In that belief, Vaati was wholly invested. Vaati waited around for none and had never before held back his claw for the graces of others. Yet, there was still the underlying fact that he could accomplish none of this without the support of his uncle. The realization quickly came that he could not move forth without appealing to Damien’s interests, at the expense of his own. He knew he needed to prioritize his ambitions since it was clear he could not have both at the same time. Kove’s death or the Wood’s destruction? What mattered more to him, he wondered internally. The answer was both, yet one held precedence over the other. Kove was just a man, but the dark woods was a soul-sucking entity that needed to be surrendered to its timely death as soon as could be.

Perhaps he did not need to internally agree with Damien’s loyalist mantra - there would always be an opportunity to accomplish what he desired once the woods had fallen. To go along with his uncle’s plan until his own path veered from it seemed to be the wisest option, for now. Through gritted teeth did he offer a compromise in the place of flat-out rejection to his uncle’s terms. “Perhaps he does not need to be killed. In the event that he should oppose the destruction of what is rightfully ours by blood, you must agree to have him run out. It is merciful, if you ask me.” Vaati knew how to play his cards. While Damien was right, the woods needed to become more than just reckless impulsivity, Vaati knew in his heart that a purge of all things associated to it was necessary - save for a few select individuals of course. All greatness he had known had been born out of chaos, after all.