Stone Circle "Swing for the fences, son." he must have told you once.

merrick was no fool; he measured the tension in the other's body, grin spreading like wide field of arctic spikes as the circle-wolf went on.
he spoke not to merrick, but to the boy; the bearwitch disentangled the little one from his limbs, pushing revui's son between the pair of them.
his children had been born in blood, both the ones he had sired and the ones he had claimed. how might this hone the child further, the eloquence of right and wrong?
he skimmed his muzzle with a lash of pink.
"how is greyback?" he inquired, delicately dropping the name into the dust with a casual sigh. "these ones, you know," he purred as the cyclopian stare shifted to the shrinking child, "speak of what is just and good, while they kill. only the great bear can decide what is just," merrick added, the coldwater lap of his stare fixed now upon the enemy. "not a wolf."