Golden Glade I feel like I'm the Paris of people

all that sounded boring – laws and rules and stuff, blah! aengus didn’t want to hear about how his uncle had to slap someone on the paw because they stepped over an imaginary line that smells like pee. the young boy wanted to hear about a daring adventure in which his uncle had been forced to save the love of his life from a devilish monster. “words are boring, dad!” aengus jeered and dove forward, imitating a real battle that he had conjured up in his tiny brain. “it’s cooler to fight it out and then you can prove that you’re the toughest and no one should mess with you,” the young frostfur added.
 
it was safe to say that aengus did not share his father’s penchant for counseling. he was more about the action than he was about using frilly words to defuse a situation. after all, the young boy had been born with all that weight, he ought to learn how to throw it around before he made a decision about what kind of conflict resolution path he would prefer to take. when rannoch went on to talk about the crazy loner who had attacked him and given him his neck scar, that was more like what aengus was looking for.
 
“see! that wolf didn’t wanna talk things out with you. he just wanted to hurt you. words can’t save you when that happens,” aengus tried to make a point with a shrug of his shoulders. he was fresh out of pee, so he was really just teetering after his father. there had to have been a reason wolves trained to fight. it could not have been so that they could enforce rules. aengus didn’t believe that was worth all the trouble. he was starting to wonder just how soft his dad really was.