Blackfeather Woods chaos is a ladder

He was eager, and expressed it far greater than Abraxas. Abraxas had never asked her but had simply done. She could not decide which she preferred more. Something about the raven-haired boy nestled between her forepaws gave her a sense of authority, unlike Abraxas who seemed her equal in mind far greater than the rest of the brood. “Kill another of your age and bring me their head; then will I know you are capable,” She leant into his ear as if the whisper of a demon on his shoulder. And truly, she was. Atshen was entranced by his mother, less so than Abraxas but worthy-seeking all the same. She used it to her advantage, despite that her two prizes would follow her regardless. Astrid and Keelut were a different matter; tamer than she, as far as she had gathered. Regardless, she had high hopes for all four -- it was Atshen and Abraxas that she expected they conquer the world. And she knew, in their prime, they could perfectly well do it with the skills she provided.