Blackfeather Woods the devil kept an eye on me

She let out a quiet snort of laughter in response, pleased to hear the girl was of the same mind. She supposed she had been a little vague about the 'terrible things' and Scylla had every right to ask. Still, it just now occurred to Maegi that her niece's father had been a part of those wrongdoings, and, well. . .

Best to keep it on the vague side, for now.

Some of the wolves who lived here before. . .messed up, Maegi explained. They'd keep prisoners, torture them. . .kill them. It was a living hell for those kept here, and it also ruined our reputation. Everyone thought—still thinks, really—that Blackfeather is evil. Cruel. Twisted.

Her own mouth stretched in a frown as she tasted the words, bitter and cold. I wanted to change that, when I came to be leader, she continued, staring at the bones. So I moved them out of that cave, said with a brief gesture, and they just ended up here. I got too busy to move them to the Altar, which I intended to do originally.

Maegi looked at Scylla, then, sizing her up. Wondering just what she thought of all this. Wondering if she'd take after the more peaceful spirits of the forest, or become more like Vaati. Damien. Cicero. Crazed, dark, twisted. Flawed.

And, if one took a step back and examined the situation from afar. . .Maegi, herself, fit those categories as well. But that's the fun of third-person limited, y'all.