The Heartwood Oh, hey mom. I had the craziest dream! I was the unicorn wizard.

Malcanthet trotted after his mother, dutiful in his newfound loyalty for the wandering crone. It was hard not to after years of separation and longing that he thought he did not have. Names began flooding from her mouth, things that he knew had to absorb quickly. Damien and Nyx. His new leaders. But it was hard to do so without faces to place them to. For now they lingered in his mind, hovering in quiet shadowy forms of wolves. A few he recognized: Midar. His nephew! Malcanthet grinned. Is Milar here as well? Of his siblings, he was closest to Malene, staying by her side as she grew round and eventually gave birth to the twin boys. She never told him the father, but Malcanthet filled the role as best he could. It would be nice to see how the two of them, or at least one of them, had grown since. 

His joy dissipated with the. Like his mother, Malcanthet did not trust Moath. In fact, he feared him. The Meloniis produced many personalities; rogues and bastards, loveable and smug, wise priests and scholars and dreamers, fiercely loyal warriors. But they also created monsters. He had heard of Miraak's son, the one who drank wolf's blood. But he had seen Moath firsthand.Hmm. Malcanthet said, now concerned. I trust he is behaving well? He had committed himself now. And given that this was his family, he was reluctant to leave so quickly. Especially not after seeing his mother for the first time in, what, years?