Blackfeather Woods The changeless thing that lurks behind superficial mutability

If Ramsay was one to believe in the greater daedra, then he might come to the same conclusion as Tundra: they were shaping the whims and wills of the wolves in the woods. He believed there were daedra in the world that whispered ideas to mortals in their dreams, but he didn't view them as gods. He didn't believe they could control anything. At most Ramsay believed they could suggest chaos and nothing more.

Good, he quietly intoned, though that wasn't really what he meant. Had she supplied that answer because she thought it was what he wanted to hear? No matter. I have a task for you, should you accept it. Complete it and you may take your place among the pack's respected. Which at the moment only included Moonshadow, something Ramsay hoped to change. Most of the wolves still with them deserved the honour, but it was earned, not given.

I want you to try to find out where my dear uncle has gone if possible, he said, turning in his path to study Tundra's expression. No more than that. I will not have you risking yourself or the woods for it. He is insane and I cannot say what he would do. But weren't all Melonii in some fashion? He would argue otherwise. But I do not believe he would breach these woods only to slink off for good. I want to know where he hides.