He did not know of his half-sister, Raven, not truly. He had heard the mention of her name and yet he hardly cared either way for yet another sister- the half siblings he knew, brothers Singe and Lonhro, were both indifferent and distant enough to truly offer the boy the knowledge that half-siblings were of no true importance for himself. They were there, they existed and yet if they did not bother him then he would not bother them. With Lonhro he was more familiar, the towering black male with the long fur a true presence and one not easily forgotten and yet such is the nature of Gunsynd he hardly cares either way. He is simply indifferent, dull, lazy- whatever word they wish to use for him. Words have a truly little effect on the son of Tobias and Tick Tock. Words however- seem to have a far stronger effect on his Mother as the boy offers them, watching the larger, older female bristle as she pauses. Some part of him is surely aware that he tests the boundaries now, that he presses against her already infamously short patience and yet for all his Mother’s shortcomings she is his Mother all the same, embodying many of the things others say she is given to lack. Perhaps he is lazy, perhaps he values sleep above all things and yet his ears are far from deaf, his presence often unseen by those within the pack else ignored entirely and as such so much of what is said is heard by the silent boy whom forever seems within the grasp of sleep. His obstinate attitude however, holds no grand gesture behind it, the boy simply stubborn because he chooses to be so- refusing to go any further until his Mother answers these things he asks. He is nearly a year of age after all and his mind has begun to question the world around him the way a simple child never does.

The silver and shadowy boy pauses, seated now upon the snow, meeting his Mothers gaze before she looks away and back out over the snow, her voice gruff, stern- as it often was and lacking the warmth he would one day come to understand other Mothers had always held. It would be some time, however, before Gunsynd would truly questioned the motivations of his own mother and why it was she was….detached, in a way, from her children, such questions still some years off. After all, Gunsynd knows no other way, understands no other way and is assured all mothers must be so business-like with their children. Perhaps it is the reason for his own indifference to an extent. Emotions were fickle, bothersome and he should not like to be burdened with them anymore then he truly must. Black ears prick forward as his Mother speaks, the boy listening, though still too young perhaps- to fully comprehend the emotions within her voice or the situation she describes. He understands what she is saying at yet his own life has been free of rejection, he knows not what it is to be turned away or turned down or feel inferior to another- such is the blessings of his existence and yet surely he is still to young to fully comprehend it. His own words youthful naivety to be sure and yet there is a keen intelligence within the boy as his Mother speaks of her first born child, Raven, the one rarely spoken of.

“If you did not like to be left alone, if you felt so….unwanted then why, knowing this, did you abandon your first child and do the same to her?”

There is no malice in his words, no true heartlessness- he simply questions as any child does- with honesty, forest green eyes inclined up towards her now though they remain free of judgement, so far. He simply asks because he is curious, features frowning slightly now.

“Why did you not abandon Never and I?”

She stands abruptly then, his own scowl deepening as if he believes she simply will not answer what he has asked, an irritable snort released before she moves to lower her head to his own until their eyes are level, the boy meeting her gaze boldly now as she speaks with a conviction that is…surprising to him. He has never heard his Mother speak so passionately before and never about their sire though Gunsynd holds little doubt of the….affection between his parents, as unusual as it is.

“I don’t….understand. I don’t think you are….doing it right, love- that is.”

That a child whom has never experienced love has any true idea of it is surely laughable and yet Gunsynd is rarely given to speak, the rare moments in which he does are afford all seriousness as he continues to regard his Mother now, frowning still as if attempting to work out the thoughts of his mind- for surely that are large and difficult things for a child.

“Why is it what he allows, why is your….value decide by what he thinks and I don’t think he thinks very much at all, Mother. Shouldn’t someone love you because you deserve it not because Fate decided or because he allowed it? You are very strange Mother. I have a girlfriend you know and Fate didn’t even tell me.”

His words are spoken once more with an utter seriousness as he sits before her- his thoughts….unusually advanced for a child and yet the boy is given to skills of the mind rather than the body, evidently he does not just sleep in the long hours in which he reclines upon the grass and so allows others to label him as lazy and spoiled. His Mother continues then, her voice still holding a conviction he finds strange upon her, though not unappealing. When she is decisive she is….far more wondrous to behold. SO very capable of such speech and yet she linger behind a vail of monstrosity as his Father does when she hardly needs to- at least to his mind. His Mother the far more intelligent of the pair. He does not doubt his Fathers fine form or capacity for violence and command of those around him, a great leader is not always kind- he is sure and ‘great’ does not always mean ‘good’. His Father was truly great. He did not deny that- he simply denied his Fathers actual capabilities beyond rage and violence and domination of everyone and everything around him through sheer force. Of his Mothers final words he offers no response, merely meeting her gaze with silence, perhaps he did carry her blood too, yet was her blood not prone to carry with it a sense of ill-worth and self-loathing? His Mother didn’t seem to like herself very much, at least, that is what Gunsynd thinks and he does not understand it truly. After all- he has never been jaded by the world as she has. Yet within his Mother’s blood can leadership too, Alphaship and that too was respectable. It was his Mother, after all, who held true power and this he does not forget.

She moves to walk forward and his own form lifts to follow, begrudgingly all the same, reluctant to be forced to walk so very far without a goal in mind as he hurries to reach his Mothers side and she speaks once more. He is silent again, contemplative- a trait he has developed it would seem before his shoulders roll in a shrug.

“You led yourself wrong, does that count? I think you did a lot of wrong, I hear them talk about you, other wolves, you and Father. You have not lead me wrong though if that is what you mean. I would like to lead our Pack one day Mother, I could do better than Nevermore because I am more like you and she is more like Father.”