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

"Euron!" Ramsay called as he slid-stepped down the slope into Spiderling Glen, casting about for his sibling and knowing full well he would never find him if Euron didn't want to be found. There was always the possibility of his sibling being elsewhere, but the glen was where he most often saw him, so it was a safe bet for him. If not here, then Euron could be anywhere, and finding leads on his most elusive sibling would be more trouble than it was worth for the halfling.

"Have news," he called out tantalizingly, seating himself on the edge of the icy creek. Even the waterfall was frozen, an undulating wall of ice dropping down into the frozen pool, and every inch of it scintillating in what light filtered down into their homestead. He pricked his wide ears and glanced around, then seated himself with a huff to wait for his brother to emerge from hiding, assuming @Euron was even there at all.

The boy was watching chickadees flick from one twig to the next in a thick tangle of bush; although he did not know them as anything but small birds and, perhaps, food. This was the thing he was contemplating, as his silver and indigo eyes followed them between branches, when Ramsay called his name.

He had thought to sneak around Ramsay and practice his stalking skills... but his brother knew him well. He had just the right carrot to dangle at the end of his stick to lure Euron out from the the shadows and in to the open. Curiosity was both an asset and a flaw.

"What is it?" Euron inquired as he strolled toward his brother. He was growing, but it was becoming more and more evident that his form would be lissome and light; he did not even break through the thin crust as he quietly made his way.

A toothsome smirk cut his blunt jaws apart when, as expected, his siblings emerged from the shadows with a question. It wouldn't be much longer, he suspected, that that would work so well on Euron. They were all getting older, defining themselves as individuals, and in due time Euron would learn to temper his curiosity, just as Ramsay would learn how to dangle a carrot most effectively. Still, they were young yet. He was just as susceptible to a promise as anyone else, and the same trick would work on him too.

"War is coming," he proudly announced, pricking his ears to show his interest in the topic. "Something bad. Vaati was talking to newcomer about it." At the time of writing this, Chelsie doesn't know if they intend to tell Ramsay what war is, but we'll assume they told him some stuff. "Big fight, they say. Want us to hide like little birdies. Like little Eurons." Not at all to say his brother was a coward; Ramsay rather idolized his ability to move about unseen and unheard, and was fairly open about that.

"But little Eurons are too clever for hiding in fear, yes?"

The boy's eyes widened as he listened to his proud brother tell him about what he heard. The information was one thing and Euron's mind hastened to draw connection between this and what he had heard when he listened to Potema and the spotted wolf talk. But there was another thing that was surprising, and with a gasp and then a wide open-mouthed grin, he exclaimed.

"Ramsay! You spied!"

Euron giggled. Tee hee!

"I want to see!" He beamed, delighted by the prospect of a big fight (and by his brother spying). He recalled the time that Ramsay had almost got in a tussle with Maegi and how he wanted them to fight then. The thought of a big fight between the adults caused his fur to prick with excitement. "I am not a bird and you are not a bird and we will not hide like a bird." He nodded determinedly.

"Did I tell you?" The boy squeezed his eyes shut and thought back to after he had reported to Cicero. He had meant to tell Ramsay too but he believed he forgot. "Nope. I tell you now. I saw a stranger too, talking to..." His expression stiffened and he trailed off in a soft growl before continuing. "Mother. She cared about him — they were touching! — and he wanted her to leave so she would not die. She said no but... Humm. I wonder if that is what he was trying to say. That there is war."

It never made sense then, what he had heard. But it was making sense now.

"I am glad she said no to leaving, hee hee!"

"Not a bird," he agreed. Birds were filthy, cowardly creatures as far as the little dwarf was concerned. The pack's reverent feelings toward ravens hadn't trickled down to him yet, and the only raven he'd ever seen that wasn't doing something dastardly or gross was the one with the extra long beak. No, Ramsay was not keen on being compared to a bird, and pulled a face at the very notion that he would hide from something that sounded as grand as war did.

He listened to Euron's story, though interjected to remind his brother that Potema was, "not a mother." If he met her again, he would not refer to her by that title, nor would he us it when speaking about her. "She is Sithis," he claimed, invoking the image of the dread god that much of the brotherhood worshipped, "death and betrayal." He didn't mean it literally, of course. Sithis was its own eternal, untouchable being, at least as far as wolves of the brotherhood were concerned, and Ramsay too. But Potema was the closest thing to a physical embodiment, and that made her purely wicked. Given the chance to snuff out her life, he would take it without hesitation.

"So she dies?" wondered Ramsay then, for that was the reason that his heart felt lighter to know Potema had not run away. If the war claimed her soul after all she had done to them, he would surely sleep better at night.

"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."

Well, he couldn't say he had the same desire to eat Potema, but as with almost everything, Ramsay was indifferent to his litter mate's darker proclivities and whims. He wished only to see her die—an eye for an eye, for letting all three of them struggle through their earliest days. Those days weren't so much as a smudge on his memory now, but it would remain a permanent mark on his psyche. For that alone she deserved her fate.

He let that topic drift away in favour of his brother's news, and settled down on his haunches, sinking into the ground until he resembled a squat tree trunk with wolf ears. "Moonspear?" mused Ramsay, and once again his mind drifted to Indra. Was that the elsewhere she had come from? Was that where Argent was from? "Why?" he had to ask, for the same reason he had asked Maegi much the same thing. "She is nothing. He is also nothing. Don't need her care. Outsider can have it." After all, affection for an outsider seemed like such an incriminating thing, no?

Ramsay did not seem to possess the same thirst for knowledge and understanding (the same burning curiosity) that Euron did but he made a lot of sense. So much so that he forced his brother to sit in quiet contemplation and wonder what use to him the information would be. He decided, after finding that he had no particular desire to do anything about this wolf or Potema besides eat the latter, there was no reason he needed the information now and only a stray chance that it might be needed someday.

"You're right." He said with a casual roll of his white patched shoulders. "I just like to know things." On that note, Euron cocked his head to one side and looked expectantly toward Ramsay. "Do you have any other news?"

"Don't think so," admitted Ramsay as he awkwardly tried to lift a hind leg to scratch at his ear. It was a contortionist's act that took him several long seconds of silence to achieve, and when he dropped his leg he gave his bulky shoulders a shake and snorted.

Gathering news was his brother's forte. What Ramsay did was more straightforward work. In fact, it was hardly work at all; he merely existed. He didn't hunt like his brother, or offer prayers for the Brotherhood like his sister. Much of what he did with his time was self-serving. They were so much like the Meloniis before them that it was frightening, but having never known Potema or Damien, he didn't know it. Euron was exactly like Cicero from Ramsay's perspective, though: clever, quiet, secretive and knowledgeable. So he had to ask, "do you?"

Euron could not help but smile at his brother's efforts to scratch. He enjoyed his brother's unique gait and the way he did things to compensate for his particular shape; his distinctive mannerisms. Not once had he ever considered his brother inferior or weak. He knew, and he had seen for himself, how capable Ramsay was.

Hmm... the boy hummed as he searched his thoughts for anything else he needed to should tell Ramsay. He found nothing of utmost importance or interest, but he did recall a few things Cicero had told him that he could share with his brother. "Cicero said that weird tree in the meadow messes with your head. It's poisonous. He also told me that I need sleep and cannot not sleep." Euron paused, and then looked pointedly at Ramsay. "That's all I think," he said. "If I think of something else I will tell you. I will tell you everything, okay?" Euron grinned, wagging his tail.

That was a promise.

We can fade with your post or archive here if you want :)

"Sleep is good," Ramsay concurred, himself being a fan of sleeping at least ten hours a day. In sleep he could imagine a perfect world, free from the tethers of their societal life. Granted, Blackfeather Woods wasn't much of a society. More of a small band of wolves struggling to eke out a living with no common threads holding them together. It was the closest thing he'd ever known though and Ramsay cherished it greatly, though he would give anything to be completely free.

"Will stay away from the tree," he promised, offering his brother a sloppy lick as he rose to leave, "and will tell you everything, too." There weren't many secrets he was willing to keep, and certainly not from his siblings. In fact, he couldn't think of a single one. "Gotta go find Vaati," he said, with a wrinkle of his nose to share his feelings. "Gotta do more training. See you later?" And with that he was off, vaulting up the hill that had proven such an obstacle only several months prior.

He did not mind his brother's lick but he was quick to rub a foreleg against the side of his face afterwards. Ramsay's wrinkled nose at the mention of their older sibling made Euron grin fiendishly. He lifted a paw to wave his brother off with a playful taa-taa motion. "Have fun, hee hee," Euron giggled. "See you!"