Blackfeather Woods words are wind, my friend

there was stupidity in this, in this continuing fight. though his hate burned, the frigid wind that was logic tempered it. he would not waste himself on this spat, for though he was a fighter, he knew that Atshen was a more than formidable opponent, rage spurred him on to great lengths. he paused, looking straight into the burning orbs of his brother, but did not strike again. no, he would end this fight another day. with that thought, he turned and left the den behind, moving quickly into the wood and the shadows, away from his sibling.