Sawtooth Spire As easy as rolling off a log

to her forgetfulness, wintersbane can't say much. he, himself, is known for forgetting things — namely offering his name during most meetings with strangers. he was getting better, for being a leader meant introducing himself ...though not marginally. if he could get away with not giving his name he probably would; a leftover habit as a small child when he created several identities in what he thought was a way of protecting teaghlaigh.

❝i like quellcrist ansbjørn too.❞ wintersbane says with a small smile. a small smile that falters and begins to fade as she asks what her parents were like. her mother and other father. he hesitates, ears fluttering back to lay at half mast atop his skull. ❝uh,❞ he begins. ❝i ...don't really know. i didn't know your other father at all and as for your mother she was still practically a stranger.❞ and if that made her feel a certain way about him, then so be it; but it was the truth and in his mind, she deserves to hear it regardless of how it paints him.