Blackfeather Woods revolution is a self taught language

It should not come as a surprise that Vaati comes around Potema’s den — with a limp rabbit betwixt his jaws to boot — but it does. Kjalarr’s damaged eye finds Vaati first — habitually it is the eye that instinctively draws his attention — though his son is but a writhing wisp of smoke and shadow. Focusing on his good eye the boy takes a solid form as the boy greets him by name, incredulous. It’s to be expected: Kjalarr had not meant to return after he left the first time but something about Potema ( before he even really knew her ) kept calling out to him, drawing him back in, back to her. Kjalarr does not pretend to understand the intimate magic that she worked on him but he knows that being here, with her, feels right. Like the first right thing he’s ever done in his life and he has no intentions of questioning it. “Vaati.” He greets his son gruffly, his lips twitching as he considers that he is speaking to the Dark Master now, presumably. Yet, at the end of the day Vaati is still a child and Kjalarr has a very hard time looking at him and seeing a leader. Especially as Potema had seemed certain he would drag the Woods to ruin with him.

“I’ve come back for your mother,” Kjalarr replies. He does not speak specifically that his true prize is her heart and love but Kjalarr’s never been a romantic and beyond that he rather thinks that it’s implied and that implying it is enough. “I’m her captive, though I’m not sure captive is the right term. I was willing. I chose it.” He shifts his weight then, flashing the shadowmark that Potema carved into his flesh. “I chose her.” He clarifies. He is not proud of the shadowmark that brands his flesh — he understands full well what it means — but he is happy Potema was willing to give him a second chance; a chance to prove to her that he is worthy.