Otatso Wetlands This race is a prophecy.

Perhaps if Njal had known of Manauia's hidden threat, that she would take Maera for herself and spoil her mind against her father, he would turn around and refute everything that she said. He would likely even attack the foolish woman - an unrelenting force in the face of this new threat to his family. Not even Malachi would be able to stop him in that, regardless of his position. But Njal was ignorant to the things that went through the woman's mind. All he knew was that her voice grated within his ears, and her spiteful words made him further agitated, but not hostile.

His tail, still raised, writhed back and forth as he tried to dispel some of his anger - but it would not be so easy. Njal turned his head and side-eyed the woman, his expression nearly livid, but he refused to face her head on. Parts of what she said were true, after all. He was being a coward. Life had thrown so much bullshit his way, though, that cowardice was hardly damaging. Your opinion is of no use to me. I uprooted my family and we created this pack. We lost everything because of that choice. My children are... He paused in his speech, unwilling to say the words - dead, gone.

A heartbeat later, he continued with more fervor. Yet you presume that you can tell me how to react? How to handle the failure that has followed me like a shadow? He scoffed, and began to lethargically stride away from her. Get away from me. The beast demanded - although there was a lack of unf in his tone. Just a sad drawl, the rumble of his deep voice being swallowed by the surrounding snow, and suffocated.