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There was no worded response to his son’s words. There was no need for such a thing anymore. Fangs were already bared in that twisted grin and his growl rose in strength and his body moved faster. This blood would taste the same. This form before him could easily have become the next vessel, but there were enough cursed offspring running around in this world. Conor would not be a loss. Dahlia was fragile and falling to pieces. Perhaps he should hunt them all down one by one and move over to Phoenix Valley to harass one eyed Maluki. The older, scarred wolf was in dire need of a lesson. First Conor had to die though. The man snarled grotesquely as claws and fangs lashed out for the golden creature that by now had moved to the building’s exit. His compact body crashed into the lighter hued boy and the two wolves crashed out of the building in a heap of fangs and claws.
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