Whitefish River but the boy survived his refusal to believe...

there was a great wave of disappointment that washed over the young ghost at the response he’d received. illidan could not help but to feel the twinge of regret for having left the plateau in the first place. they’d always talked about finding his blood family again, but he had spent so much of his childhood with kavik and liri that it hadn’t felt right to simply walk away from them the moment caiaphas had appeared. hadn’t he chastised grezig for having done the same thing? he’d told her that it was a disgrace to simply turn her back on all that had been given to her.
 
life was a series of closing doors, though.
 
when the stoic stranger mentioned that his pack had something of an ill reputation, illidan cupped his ears forward and canted his head to the side curiously. he hadn’t heard of any packs in the wilds that had garnered that kind of a reputation for themselves, so he almost found it funny. instead of snorting at the words, the young ghost drew his tongue along his dark lips and frowned thoughtfully.
 
“reputation for what?”