Blackfeather Woods glowing like prey in the forest of death

The corner of his maw quirks, visible indication of annoyance as the other speaks, but his eyes remain distant in away that counteracts the other's daring and incorrect sense of entitlement with a level-headed maturity, as if staring into a fire; unblinking. Try as he might, the other will never be apart of the dark woods; not truly. He does not know the land, the darkest parts of its surface, the secrets it holds and the nature of those within. This Kahlil is a forgiener, forever isolated against those true to its bearings, for the difference between the two is something undeniable; Vaati is true to the blood of the forest. Kahlil is a castaway, a puppet under the guidence of a madwoman. Vaati has no need to be threatened, not by something that will never surpass him. "Do you expect me to be impressed?" He muses with an undertone of mockery; belittling the other's batant display of self-superiority with amusement. Vaati does not need to justify his standing within the pack as the other needs to; Vaati belongs here, he was born here, he is from the blood of the Night Mother herself; this is his home.

After moments of staring does he chide, unable to stop himself from pushing further into the consious of the other, drilling what little, useful forwarnings he can offer. "If I were you, I would not make the mistake of believing you belong here." His gaze, this time, is shared between the two, for Vaati takes no allies. He does not need them. "This woods belongs to my siblings and I... you are experiments." And he says so with a truth that is undeniable; wether or not the two fools choose to believe him is not his concern. In a woods full of spies, killers, trained in the art of decpetion, it is pure idiocity to trust anyone, not even those who you may lead you to believe are on your side. It is their job, Vaati has come to understand, and he is wary of even his family.. and rightfully so. His personal distaste for Kahlil and overal lack of concern of the one who calls himself  Neo does not take effect in this; they will not survive with their false senses of superiority and strength, In the dark woods, they are reduced to nothing. They are no one but pawns in a greater scheme. Clavicus has no reason to be threatened, but the others who have fallen so easily into a web of pure lies, they do.