Blackfeather Woods Draw me not without reason; sheath me not without honour.

"I know that I don't trust him," he said at once, feeling deflated with the realisation that he could offer her nothing more solid than the feeling within his gut. Venamis had been present for so many discussions regarding Maegi and the wolves of Blackfeather, how his parents had plotted openly of their desires to take it for themselves to rebuild their lives there, but he'd been too little to focus on such politics.

He had not listened - had not cared to, as his childish attention remained with all the mischief he could get himself into. "I've been here for months," Ven rolled a dark shoulder, still unable to look upon Maegi's face, "and not one of my father's wolves came looking for me after I left. It's not like I went far." Did his dispersal mean that his relatives hated him? Probably. But Venamis' family had let him down long before he abandoned them and, now that he had grown, he realised just how little he must have meant to them.

"Why here, now, after all this time?" Venamis growled softly. "I dont believe for one second that Midar would've left my father, injured or not. I think he's here to see to a more sinister intent." 

And I don't want you to see you bleed. Not for me.