Blackfoot Forest In Death There Is Life

The paler of the two could appreciate a short, right-to-the-point kind of answer, and didn't question it any further. If the mission was one from Meldresi and concerned anyone further of North, he was sure she would have spoken with him to arrange something. He figured the mission must either be one of the man's own, or perhaps he'd simply veered off the path he was suppose to take. Whichever way the situation fell, Kove decided it best not to involve himself. If he was needed, the Dark Queen would have spoken to him about it, and if he wasn't needed then it was none of his business. Next came another question, but it did not come from the Inuit. It came from the shadow, asking of his mark. If there had been a doubt in the pallid king's mind before over whether or not he'd seen the other before, it was now gone. With how common the darker furred wolves were in the shaded forest, it made it difficult to not know them, even if you hadn't met them. They were the ghosts who lived among the shadows, and they usually became just as sneaky when maneuvering the dark forest as someone with a blackened coat would.

“That is because I am no longer a member of the pack, but I still reside within the Brotherhood,” he answered, though a true question hadn't been asked. It'd been more of a statement, but Kove had assumed their was some curiosity behind it. “I'm Kove, once a member of Blackfeather, until I left. I'm guessing you joined after I'd already gone.” It was the only explanation he could come up with. Even if he hadn't been born with such a colorless coat, he'd noted how many often tried to get in good graces with those of the Brotherhood—as he had been no exception to that. It seemed off that the male, who knew of the Brotherhood, would not know of each of it's members unless he'd happened to join after one had left. For a moment, he found himself wondering if the man knew of Bane, but he did not ask. He still wondered where the other Northerner had gone.