Blackfeather Woods You were both born to be kings

When the time had come for him to be collected, Kove followed in silence with expressionless features. None of them—those beyond Blackfeather included—were as healthy as they once were, but from numbers came strength, and so he'd focused upon his comrades. He knew not what Damien might do, or how the situation as a whole would play out, but he felt himself to be prepared nevertheless. Meldresi was the one he'd sworn his allegiance to so long ago, and the respect he'd felt for her had easily carried on to her children; the first litter, anyways. Her children, the firstborn specifically, had a right to the throne. He had the right to decide who stayed within the woods and who was to be forced out. It was his decision, as the true king of the shadows, and the Inuit would follow his lead because of that.

Once they'd reached the whelping den, the alabaster man was not so quick to march up to the entrance. Recalling his own feelings from back when he'd been made a father, he knew the risks, and was not willing to allow anyone's fangs to sink into his flesh. Besides, it was not his time to speak, and so he'd hung back. It was not at Nemesis' side that he'd waited by, however, but nearer to the younger male's right flank instead as his support was given. No matter how the situation was to unfold, he would stay there, looking to the late queen's son as his leader.