Ankyra Sound do these effectively hide my thunder?

"I wouldn't go that far quite yet," Whit replied with wry grin. It faded quickly enough as the truth of it weighed upon him. It felt like every day he was getting closer and closer to starving to death amongst these strange wolves of the sea. How Jorunn had kept his confidence was a mystery to him. He was beta of this pack now, and so upon his shoulders was the well-being of them all. If they all starved to death, that would be on him and the spider. It was an unfair attitude, but that was just part of being a leader, looking out for the well-being of the pack. Or so Whittier believed, and it was exactly for that reason that the yearling had no such aspirations for himself. Way too much pressure.

Jorunn seemed happy to entertain with a tale of what had happened while Whittier had been away, and Whit was perfectly content to listen quietly. He spoke of his biological family, which was an odd concept to him. He had never really wondered after his brother's blood relations, having figured they had all died from bears or something. But apparently they were alive, and they were dicks that needed to be killed. Whit wondered if he was blowing smoke, speaking of killing someone least of all his actual brother. Or. Adopted actual brother? Family was complicated... But whatever the case, Whit accepted his proclamation without concern, figuring it wasn't likely to happen anyway. Poor oblivious kid.

When Joru-- Kjalarr (crap he'd missed it like twenty times today..) - began to talk of their father and Aunt, he listened with mild curiosity. It took him a minute to really consider what he was saying, and once it clicked, he slowed gradually until finally he stopped to peer in startled confusion when Kja gave him a nudge and asked him why he hadn't joined Scimitar in some place called Neverwinter Forest. "Dad's here?" he asked, unfortunately overlooking the rather sweet offering of brotherly love Kjalarr had extended. It would have been a great comfort to him too to know that good ol' Jo was still there, but he'd dropped quite the bomb that Whittier had become preoccupied with.