Blackfeather Woods when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out

Maegi welcomed him to her, though he was not nearly as accepting of the other juvenile's arrival. His frosted stare swept over her slight frame, quietly judgemental as she moved to their leader's opposite side, and should she dare to look his way he'd curl his lip without hesitation.

It was the mention of his father's name, spoken with distaste, that drew his attention away. Venamis lifted his smooth ears and rose his crown, eerily pale eyes flitting between the two adults as they discussed likelihood of Damien's frustration over Maegi's title. His parents had bitterly discussed the claim of Blackfeather Woods at length in the presence of their offspring, but Ven was the epitome of ignorance. He could not recall such talk and nor had he cared to, until these wolves saw fit to mock him.

He loved his sire, but his disappointment in him overpowered any affection he held. Damien had proven himself too insecure, too unstable, as was made clear with his inability to formally claim any territory he'd chosen for their pack. Still, despite the sour thoughts he had for his family, he did not wish for them to fall - and Venamis studied the sharp blue eyes of the stranger before him to imprint his face so that he might attempt to bleed information from him in a more private encounter.