Sawtooth Spire Step into your power.

Within his breast, his heart hammered. Although he believed himself to be a capable fighter and he appeared a giant in comparison to many his own age, Venamis had never appreciated the feeling of being outnumbered. So he curled his upper lip as the alabaster she-wolf drew near, a silent flash of fangs in warning: stay back.

She did, thankfully, pausing a distance from him that he could hardly consider comfortable, but he found himself appreciative of the space. It was then that he shifted his weight, unrooting himself just enough to steal a glance over a shoulder in the direction that the other white wolfess had called from. Curiously, she was no longer in his sights.

Fuck. He lashed his obsidian tail, frustrated. Venamis, truly alone in the world now that he was no longer welcome among those in the dark woods, knew that he couldn't afford to risk injury should the pallid duo choose to round on him.

The young Melonii senses Tundra's own uncertainty, and it is almost soothing. He simply looks upon her pale features with a cool stare, willing her to speak until she emits a single word: Blackfeather. If he weren't so tense, his body may have sagged. His respect for Maegi may have dissipated, but his fondness for where he once made his home could never fade. Instead, Venamis huffed a breath through flared nostrils. "Dead to me," came his simple response, brow furrowing above his frosted eyes.