Blackfeather Woods fruit of thy womb.

His foul tongue ran carefully across his muzzle at the sound of his mother's call. Lennox had been awaiting her request and it seemed that he was finally getting his wish. He made haste to where she stood in the midst of the Woods and slowed to a stop just a few yards away. Emèlie! So good to see you again! How long's it been, ma? Few years now? 
A snarl crept at his lips with the final statement; the visual component to the rumble erupting from his chest. Lennox circled her slowly, taking in every bit of her scarred body. She'd changed in the years since he'd last seen her (the last memory of his was around he and his brother's 6 month mark). Remy? Did you see him yet? Yeah Mom, you wouldn't believe it. Your precious Remy is a fruit cup now. Lennox snapped at his mother's flank, now boiling with immeasurable contempt.