Sun Mote Copse Caraway Tea

Having not known the entire story...It was very uncomfortable and emotional for him to hear it in its completion, from Wraen's perspective. He did his best to keep his emotions in check as they flooded through him, swirling and morphing from betrayal to anger, and that horrible feeling of knowing that something terribly wrong had been done due to a lack of information on Kiwi's behalf. She had attacked his father because she had assumed that he had killed her mother. It simply didn't make sense- had she not known who Colt was? Why would she leap to such a conclusion, just based on the fact that his father had stepped up to take over the role of leading the pack? Wraen was now leader- but that certainly did not mean that she had killed their former Sovereign. 

He felt frustrated, knowing that both he and his mother had been away when his father had been attacked, and that perhaps at least Niamh could have done something about it had she been there. He knew he couldn't blame himself for his father's death- but he could not stop himself from wondering if he wasn't at least partially responsible. If he hadn't been such a jackass as a kid...His mother wouldn't have taken him out for some one-on-one time and behavior modification...And if she'd been home, then she sure as hell would have stepped in at Colt's side. There was no way Colt would've died, had his mother been present. It troubled him- but he knew there was no way of changing the past. 

"But she still attacked him, and he still died." He said, feeling a bit contrary when Wraen tried to take some of the blame off Kiwi's shoulders. "She was a coward." He said defiantly, but there was more sadness in his voice than anger. He rubbed his face against his foreleg, as though trying to rub the soreness out of his cheeks from the tears that burned within. "But my Dad wasn't." He said softly. A soft hiccup disrupted his breathing, which he was trying to control with great difficulty. He remained as calm as possible, despite reliving the events leading to his father's death. He sniffed, and clenched his jaws together as he held his breath, doing everything he could think of in order to keep himself from crumpling. When he spoke again, his voice was tight but soft. "What do you remember best about him?" He asked, though he was unable to make himself look at Wraen, knowing that it would be too much.