He is not as useless as others would pin him to be, my boy. He is not without all senses, and he cane tell when paws touch stone along the sounds of running water around us. They might not find the value in him- but I do. It causes my lips to twitch slightly- satisfied with what he has gained in his sightless life.

My hums are a thing of threat to some, a thing of comfort to others. Perhaps a bit of both to my own children. I was powerful enough to bring them into the world, and I could easily end each and every one with my own two fangs. Yet, they are of me. They are myself, just extended into other bodies. I wish not to take any of them out into the darkness of death- not unless they defile my name.

My child walks towards me, and I come to a halt as I simply watch. The world is a cruel place- even a rock can take down the mightiest of wolves in a trip. My child must hesitate with his steps- only showing that those with sight who do trip are perhaps dull in such moments. I remember watching him when he was but a pup learning the world. How much he had to learn- and how little I guided him. He had to learn on his own. He had to adapt on his own. Sure- I was there to feed him, to show him the way through words, but much of it was his own doing. As it should be. He is of Me. He has it within him to do it without any of our help.

He stopped with my question, a displeasure appearing upon his face. It was interesting to watch. I have learned much from my child. I have learned what is taught from wolf to wolf in facial reactions- and what is within us naturally. How else am I to know what is ingrained in our bodies and what must be taught? Yes, my child was helpful indeed. He did not look at her face, but more her neck. It seemed natural to attempt to face in one's direction- but eye contact and the exact location of the face was a different matter. I have watched this morph over the years- and he has yet to get it right as one with sight would.

I listen to his concern- that they will rip out his eyes. Abel did suffer a fate of having his leg removed- but such a leg was a hindrance. I know that Anselm had ripped the eye out of that Melek girl, and it appears Eden has taken the same sort of philosophy as his white clad brother. I remain in silence for a moment, only allowing the clash of water and the sound of inferior beings around us ring for a moment.

"I don't know- will they? Will you let them?" I ask, watching him carefully with my amber eyes. "If they dig out your eyes- it will not let you see. It will do nothing. It would be juvenile to rip out your eyes- nothing but a mere symbol, do you understand?" I state my words a bit forceful- although no fault of his own.

"Juvenile that it may be, does not mean they will not try. Abel's leg, is a thing a bit different. It hinders him. It holds him back. Perhaps, removing it, will bring him more fluid movements. Or perhaps disease will kill him," I say...allowing my words to flow a bit more than with most. He does not have the pleasure of viewing my form and the subtleties of my posture. He does not have the ability to gather information in the same way- and thus I do indulge him with more words than others. Perhaps, that is the one thing that I give Cartel the most. The pleasure of my voice and wisdom.

"What will you do about it?"