Blackfeather Woods Wicked Ways

She disregarded his greeting, to be truthful. Little did she care for what he felt, or the need the stranger carried to put up the polite play of innocent respect. It was not to her that his greetings would fall upon, but her child for it was in the boy, that the stranger's future lied. However, her child would not speak for the amusement of another; only when the dire time came would the boy use the vocal chords he was born with. The mother herself had only heard her child's voice once since his birth and still, it did not bother her. In the absence of Abraxas' speech, she would be his mouth to ask the questions he would not, to speak for what the child ought to know when making his decision. "What do you want?" Her inquiry met the silence, optics narrowing upon the male. Her patience had run dry through the day, her children having used up what little tolerance she had managed to salvage. For this fact, her tone was dry, leaving absolutely no room for small talk of any kind. Her job was to instate and accept, yet often the task grew wearisome. In the future, she hoped to see Abraxas take on the task himself as an official job of the Brotherhood. Already, the boy was on his way to becoming far greater than her expectations had inferred, beyond all that the others of the litter would ever accomplish in their later days. Who the boy deemed suitable and who was not meant more than the worth of the world to her, and for that, it was truly not Nemesis who the man had ought to impress.