Sawtooth Spire Step into your power.

When she questioned his concerns, Venamis frowned deeply. He fixed the pale wolfess with a pointed stare; in his immaturity, he was so quick to react defensively. A muscle in his jaw tightened as he fought the urge to flash his fangs again, yet somehow he managed to keep his smart mouth shut and bite back a familiar insult.

The frustration heightened as she went on to dig her claws into a wound that still felt raw to him, choosing to share her initial thoughts of him: Damien's kid. A low rumble in his chest, a disapproval. That was all he'd ever been to those who claimed to have been wronged by his father.

It was all he would ever be to the Blackfeather wolves.

Venamis had wanted to pry on the matter for months, to unearth the mystery behind his sire's sour reputation. Too young, innocent of the patriarch's alleged crimes, he knew nothing of his parents' history in the dark woods; what good would it do for him to learn? He supposed the less he knew, the less he would have to lie about.

"Does it matter?" Ven asked rhetorically, tongue snaking between raven lips to lick rainwater from his nose. He didn't care if she thought him a liar - if that was what made her feel better about the situation to protect precious Maegi in her head, she could have at it. "The woods were home to me but I had no identity there. I was just "Damien's kid" to all of you, as though whatever he supposedly did was my fault."

At the adolescent's hocks, his sodden tail lashed. Tundra saw fit to offer some sort of explanation for her absence and he merely blinked at her, unable to find any sympathy for the she-wolf who'd been so willing to leave him to perish, alone in the wilds. "You disappeared," he said, "and they never looked for you. Maegi didn't care about me, and probably didn't give a shit about you either." His observation was a dark one, and probably untrue, but he hoped Blackfeather and its leader would suffer for how they'd wronged him. If his twisted words would keep the ghost from returning, then Maegi would surely crumble in the absence of followers fit to defend her against whatever horror Midar had in mind.