Hushed Willows you're my heaven, you're my hell

As ever, the child was a mere facade of Amara’s past decisions-- a ghost amongst the living. Though he was unaware of the events that had lead to his conception or the pain that Amara had endured, Kavos was a wolf that was a spitting image of his sperm donor-- right down to the stoic glance. Perhaps his existence was meant to haunt his mother for the rest of her days, to be the voice of all she had given up in the wake of Rosing’s overthrowing.

He did not falter as she spoke, feeling no mercy for the woman that had been so hateful so early in their innocent lives. There were very few emotions that the child felt and, somehow, all of them laid within the negative spectrum on the scale of emotions. Somehow, at such a young age, Kavos existence how soured down to his core.

His look of displeasure only intensified after Amara had fallen silent. He didn’t know how to respond to her, finding his lack of vocabulary particularly annoying in this very moment, and instead, shook his head and turned to face away from her. He was done dealing with her in that moment and wanted nothing more of that conversation. Ushering out a heavy sigh, Kavos laid his head down and closed his eyes, hoping that she would pick up his (very) obvious hint that he wanted nothing more to do with her.