Blackfeather Woods fruit of thy womb.

@Abraxas

It was a matter of common courtesy to address your mother, and Emèlie made sure that her sons knew the basics of good manners. Provided, she hadn't been the most involved or loving parent she could've been but she'd had more important things on her plate than the bastard runts. Was it not enough to make sure they were fed each night? What else did they want from her?
Lennox had found his way into the Woods and Emèlie was sure that he'd seen her just as many times as she'd seen him, so she held no hesitation in calling for her son's presence. It was time they had a talk about his behavior, and Mother wasn't very happy about it.

His foul tongue ran carefully across his muzzle at the sound of his mother's call. Lennox had been awaiting her request and it seemed that he was finally getting his wish. He made haste to where she stood in the midst of the Woods and slowed to a stop just a few yards away. Emèlie! So good to see you again! How long's it been, ma? Few years now? 
A snarl crept at his lips with the final statement; the visual component to the rumble erupting from his chest. Lennox circled her slowly, taking in every bit of her scarred body. She'd changed in the years since he'd last seen her (the last memory of his was around he and his brother's 6 month mark). Remy? Did you see him yet? Yeah Mom, you wouldn't believe it. Your precious Remy is a fruit cup now. Lennox snapped at his mother's flank, now boiling with immeasurable contempt.

The snarl was what drew the Raven, the words laced with contempt allowing him to trace them easily. he did not tread into the clearing immidiatley, but instead stalked near until he was in a gnarled, faded clump of undergrowth a distance away, blending in well with the decomposing leaves and brittle branches, his small size and the fact that he was utterly still allowing him not to be noticed. he had not seen two members of the wood fight, and snarls usely meant that such an affair was in order.

so the boy watched, in utter silence, observing the scene before him yet not yet entering it. he was good, quite good, and blending into the background. that skill would serve him now.

Emèlie watched as the boy circled her and took in each hate filled word he spat. Generally speaking, she would've been proud that he'd finally grown out of his lollipop panties, but he was speaking to his mother. She rumbled lowly in a devilish chuckle and began to make her way around her son as well. She bore her teeth and snapped at his flank, tugging at patches of fur.

The only difference between you and I, my child, is that I know what I'm doing.

Were you not taken care of? Did I not ensure you both places at the top? What you did after that is based on your own mistake, not mine. That much was true. Though Emma might not have been the most doting mother, she made sure her children were never hungry or cold, nor that they ever had to suffer at the bottom. You have my blood, Lennox. You could've easily taken whatever you wanted.
With one final snap at her son's tail, Emma lunged into his side, aiming for whatever part of him she could latch onto.

Oh give me a fucking break Emma. He was actually entertained by the notion that his mother was ever concerned with their well-being. La bête de la nuit, they called her, for the only time she was ever seen was tearing into another's flesh in the midst of the night. As she nipped at him and snapped at his tail, his growls grew louder, stronger, but the moment he felt her weight come down upon him, it was a struggle for life.
Her jaws were clamped down on his face, digging into the flesh on age around his eye. Lennox was trying his best to fight her off when finally, the angles fell into place. With whatever strength he'd had left brewing within, he aimed for her throat, trying to take whatever of it he could.

interesting.
the way they fought, the way words grew heated and growls and snarls became for commonplace, until they begun, finally, a dance of fang and claw. he watched with great interest in his expression, staring from the sidelines with intensity. he did not reveal himself, not yet- he merely watched and learned as the fight before him entranced him as if it were a flickering flame.

Luckily, she was quick to latch onto his face, though in the same breath, he lunged for her throat. One single nick of Emma's skin and she immediately jumped back. Huh. Maybe their father wasn't a terrible teacher after all. At least he made sure that they knew how to fight, anyway. She now stood only a few feet away but her hackles lowered slightly as she spoke once again to her son.
So you aren't a complete failure. You should be proud of yourself, sweetheart. Her final words were drizzled with equal parts sarcasm and wrath, for she couldn't give two shits how Lennox saw himself. There was no love between them. It was all business.

Lennox gave a stout smile and spat at Emma's feet. No matter how he viewed himself, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was right. He hadn't accomplished anything notable in his life, and time was ticking. At least, it felt like it. Fuck off Emèlie. I didn't come here for you. He turned to make his exit, though something told him to linger just a moment more to see if she'd had anything left to say.

Boring.
the fight was short lived, and the boy stared at them a moment longer before turning on his heel and stalking off the way he had come, gaze hard and disappointed at the rather unexciting fight. His exit, as had been his entrance, was silent and without notice.

Alright, sweetheart. I'm just a call away, y'know, if you decide to grow some balls. She gave one last snarl and an aggressive swish of her tail before making her way from the scene. She had just about as much time for his pissy attitude as she had in her life and neither was very much.