Stone Circle turn off your porcelain face

The white male-Siarut, was sent away. And as they parted Clay kept his olive gaze on him, tracking the white wolf till he was out of earshot and past his field of view. He seemed nice, respectable and soft spoken towards his mother. Were the rest of the wolves like that? Clay wondered how much had changed since he last stepped paw here.

He looked back to his mother, and with a gulp he listened as she asked her questions. She forgave him—or at least she said she did, and it was then he realized that perhaps he wouldnt be punished; with that he feebly, slowly, and cautiously turned back onto the stomach and rose up to a weak stance. His bent tail and was still tucked below him, and he still kept his head lower than his mother's.

"His name was Vengeance, warlord of Nightwalkers." Clay whispered, scared of even uttering the name. "All of us there were pups, 'cept three. I think..." It was hard to recall the thoughts. "We were all kept in a pit at first, and when we showed potential we would be trained to... uh,...execute... others. Some weren't so lucky. Those who were insubordinate had their limbs broken and tossed back into the hole." He shook as he talked. "I-I don't want to talk about this anymore. Thank you for forgiving me. Is.. dad home? Leta and the others?" he questioned.