Sawtooth Spire As easy as rolling off a log

wintersbane watches the end of the puppet show with a chuckle and a shake of his head as she tosses the larger of the corpses to him. he places a large paw on it on instinct, almost as if he expects it to get up and run away before he drags it towards him. ❝thanks,❞ wintersbane says gruffly, giving a soft clear of his throat, appreciative of the demonstration of skills and the consideration that she wanted to eat breakfast with him; snickering at her dad joke.

as she tears into her own meal, wintersbane does the same; ears cupping forth to hear her question. ❝ansbjørn,❞ he corrects her a bit more sternly than he means to. his ears flutter back and he sighs, ❝sorry ...it's just ansbjørn was your grandmother's last name and she died. a long time ago now but ...it's all i have of her.❞ and wintersbane was and always would be a mama's boy. would she have made a joke out of the 'fearghal' name he wouldn't have cared if only because as far as wintersbane knew arturo was still alive and spawning out children like his day of reckoning was coming ( and it was ).

❝well, to be honest your mother and i had a one night stand. i'm not sure if she was mated to the mayfair man before or after you were born... or at all, really. i assumed he raised you and it didn't seem right to try to force 'ansbjørn' or 'fearghal' on you. i think what name you choose to carry should be your own.❞ but those were just wintersbane's thoughts ...as an adult ( at least in the eyes of the pack ) she was more than capable of making her own decisions in regards to such matters.