Ravensblood Forest so the past is not the past

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“Good, good,” Arturo murmured visibly pleased as her willingness to submit herself so wholly to the cause of Teaghlaigh. It was the revolving door that fed the fact that The Family took care of it's own. Ceannasach spared her a glimpse, looking down at her as she joined him at his side, contemplating how to word it. He wasn't sure which of them (him or Duana) had the hard conversations with their children — of life and death. Arturo did bad things in his life, had killed his fair share. He was the jury, the judge and the executioner. It was a burden of the Ceannasach. Yet, this had begun long before he'd named himself a king with a crown of thorns. He had made his first kill when he was still young, not even a year of age. Looking at Chusi, so full of naivety and innocence — as his own children had been — and he pondered if he should have felt regret. He didn't. “I've only ever seen the verdict pass as death. The option for mercy is there but a prisoner is a waste of valuable resources that could be better used on the elderly, sick, or the children.” He was not aware what she did or did not know on the subject and thus the gangster lapsed into a contemplative silence, studying her out of the corner of his eye.

Lie? Where did she get that from, Arturo wondered, because he doubted it was Kitku or the peaceful Donnelaith wolves. “I don't expect anyone to lie,” Technically, while highly deceptive his Red Herring was only a twist of the truth, necessary to protect The Family. “You give vague answers, don't give away anything that would compromise The Family and if you aren't certain about what you could say or are uncomfortable you call for me.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “What if a Blackrock Depths wolf comes to our borders? Do you remember what I said about them?” He inquired.

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