Emberwood let's talk about myths baby.

Fig laughed softly at his sister's retort. She didn't explain what she'd intended with her statement, but he could tell he hadn't reacted properly whatever it was. Unconcerned, he continued along the borders, pausing here and there to mark and inspect unusual scents along the way.

He looked over at her curiously when she posed her next question. What rank he might hold in this pack of hers had never once crossed his mind. He feared Towhee's ambitions for him were simply not meant to be, not because he thought himself incapable of leadership, but because he'd decided it really didn't matter to him. If his family needed a leader, he'd lead. If they needed a guardian, he'd guard. If they needed a court jester with a foul mouth and a lisp, he'd... well, he'd try. He suspected he wouldn't be very good at that, though.

"Whatever one you need," Fig replied honestly, knowing it would likely earn him an eye roll, "I can fight, I can patrol, I can teach. I have a pretty good track record of making sure my companions don't trip or run headlong into trees. Whatever I can do to be useful is fine, really."