Blackfeather Woods but is blood really thicker than water?

Her answer doesn't suprise him. His own childhood had consisted of his family scaring him into believing things that were and were not nessecarily true; it seemed that the tradition had continued on in perhaps a more mild fashion. The yearling almost wanted to laugh, tell her that not only was she far too big to be considered a meal for any of the owls that lived in their trees but they would still have likely picked her out from the ground in any case. But he doesn't simply dismiss her rather intellegent use of problem-solving, instead, offering an alernative that rung true in many other, real-life situations. He smiles, "Ah, but you don't need to hide. You're a Melonii. Show them a glimpse of those sharp teeth of yours and they'll know not to mess with you." It is perhaps the best advice he can offer, for it seemed to be the solution to many of his problems. Life lessons, you know? But, he figures if anyone, Ramsay would have more of a chance of getting swooped up by a bird of any kind than the averaged sized girl. Poor kid. 

A part of him cringes out of shame at the accusation she rightly presents: he had not spent as much time with them as he should have. It was a repetition of his uncle's neglect as an older figure, the lack of someone for them to look up to. Ultimately, yet another factor to add to the seemingly endless list of consequences he faced for stupid mistakes. He chuckles sourly, "Getting into trouble," Knowing full well there was nothing humerous about what he had got himself in to. But he won't make excuses to her -- offering her the truth instead of avoiding the sticky topic all together. His sister deserved an answer for his absence, and not something he pulled out of thin air.