Blackfeather Woods i have seen the fall of babylon

I totally thought I wrote this & posted it, but I guess it was a draft. Most of this makes no sense because I wrote it at work on my phone lmfao. :P

He should not have let the words get to him, but they did. His old spark of obnoxious entitlement had ignited at some point recently — or maybe not so recently, maybe back when he'd started to remember things properly — and it took some of Mou's patience to curb the hostility that Screech felt. The boy never considered the facets of his personality as separate entities altogether, before. It made some sense to him though; his life had diverged in to a twisting series of paths and led him here to the woods, fractured, but also slowly coming back to himself again. Whole. Maybe the woods would further heal him, if he had the time to spare for it.

But even if he felt hot under the collar, the ghost could not find fault in what Wintersbane was saying, because there was truth to it. They had run in the past, and the woods had suffered because of their snap decision to do so. Things had to change if they were going to earn the right to call themselves leaders in earnest; they needed the respect of the wolves first and foremost, and it would be an uphill battle. He was thoroughly convinced that Blackfeather would be stronger for all the struggle it had been through — stronger still if the tundrian stayed, so when Wintersbane questioned him Mou let the edge of his poor attitude slip away from him, and he responded with his own honesty, as clearly as he could: Yes. Loyah to M'gee? Forest es home? Winnaspane, bee-lon here, wid us. I swear, we be betta.