Flycatcher Downs sweet little baby in a world full of pain

"I'm not fibbing," Clarence argued then, a bit miffed at the accusation. "Yeah, Vengeance is dead." He was pretty sure, anyway. "A girl is the leader now. A girl and Serem. Not Vengeance." A massive beast? Clarence had seen plenty of those in his life. Was Santiago maybe classified as a massive beast too?

Not polite, not polite. Clarence wasn't sure he'd ever really heard that word, but he didn't like the implication that he was doing something wrong. "I was just saying, because I have scars, too." A small smile formed on his maw. "Scars are good. They're a reminder that you survived and that you're super strong and stuff. Besides, they don't make you look ugly. I like the way you look." A very teenage thing to say - flirt with the pretty boy, Clarence. That was certainly smooth.

Large ears angled forward as the boy spoke, and Clarence's expression fell. He wasn't the most observant, but even he could pick up on what had happened. The scars on the backside, the defilement, the taking. It had never happened to the piebald boy before, but he'd seen it occur. A lot of bad stuff went on in the arena. 

"See, though?" he asked, tilting his head with a small, encouraging smile toward the smaller wolf. "You're strong. You're still here and talking to me and being real brave. That's really awesome."