Fairspell Meadow Divine and Witchy

Dwin did not have a filter and she happened to insult people without meaning to do so. In her experience very few conflicts and awkward situations between family members and packmats had arisen because she had been mean on purpose. Most of the time it was simply her saying the first thing that was on her or simply getting carried away and thinking about, what exactly she had said afterwards. 

Often she did not even notice (like now) that she had made her companion feel awkward, because she herself did not see an issue. In this case - Ash Paw was not considered old. Old was like dad with his creaky joints and a trail of sand, wherever he went (that last par was her creation). Or mom, who wanted to nap more than entertain Dwin 24/7. It was not until the young Blackthorn had become a bit older herself, when she began to discover the magic of naps. 

"That sounds so cool!" Dreadfather. Here had been Dwin, who had up until now thought that such names and titles existed only in stories. Their own pack's ranks were named after birds. And that was not interesting at all. "Does he have horns and scales and rules the Firey realms of the Underworld?" because that was exactly like a place, where a dreadfather could and should live. Anything less would not be worth of his name. "Does he have evil minions to do his bidding too?"