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300+
[ic] i'm outta bullets so fuck it, i use my knife
He was not aware of the specific circumstances of the war. All he knew was that it involved Dahlia de Mai and Inferni, and that it was probably rooted in the hatred between the coyotes and wolves of these packs. He only understood that hatred as far as one who held no prejudice could understand it, but no more than this. And while he was curious about the details of the war, Kansas had no burning desire to know. Conor definitely wasn't the individual to ask; he was a youth, and probably hated the war for deeper reasons than his uncle could imagine. He didn't want to think of his young nephew's inner turmoil, much less bring it to the surface.
Kansas had spent many happy months with his twin sister when they were children. Although they were no longer close, he thought of her and of her children every day, many times per day. He liked it when he could spot the similarities her sons had to her, and to one another; it made him happy. He cared about them more than they knew, and more than he was willing to share. Conor did something very reminiscent of his mother in refusing to share his feelings, and rather than pry at him (Kansas knew better), the older wolf let him be. "They're fine," he said with a grin, hoping he might warm their conversation up. "Cambria's becoming a healer, and the other two are well, too..." His children were happy, and that was all that mattered to him. "I have another litter on the way. You can come see them, if you like, when they're born." He wanted Conor to know that he was welcome in his extended family. "How is Emwe?" Kansas asked, hoping this question wasn't going to uncover any sadness.