Blackfeather Woods I know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder

Well, he couldn't say he had the same desire to eat Potema, but as with almost everything, Ramsay was indifferent to his litter mate's darker proclivities and whims. He wished only to see her die—an eye for an eye, for letting all three of them struggle through their earliest days. Those days weren't so much as a smudge on his memory now, but it would remain a permanent mark on his psyche. For that alone she deserved her fate.

He let that topic drift away in favour of his brother's news, and settled down on his haunches, sinking into the ground until he resembled a squat tree trunk with wolf ears. "Moonspear?" mused Ramsay, and once again his mind drifted to Indra. Was that the elsewhere she had come from? Was that where Argent was from? "Why?" he had to ask, for the same reason he had asked Maegi much the same thing. "She is nothing. He is also nothing. Don't need her care. Outsider can have it." After all, affection for an outsider seemed like such an incriminating thing, no?