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If nothing else, he was pleased to see the mask fall. It was a serious conversation, now. No need for such illusions. He was also glad of the emotion in her face, in her voice, however she might try to control it. The fact that she could not proved that she understood his need, felt it perhaps as keenly as he did himself. There were no words to describe the agony, the rage that such an attack created. It was either felt or not understood at all.

Yes, her reaction pleased him. "The beasts are far more intelligent than mere animals," he said, and though his disdain for them was clear, he was quite serious. "So if mere animals are insufficient, an alternative means of training is required. It had occurred to me that out of all of the unworthy Chosen, at least a few must understand the true need to be rid of the beasts once and for all. Amongst those few, perhaps an arrangement could be made in assisting each other with their goals. Or at the very least, preparing for the war."

The house of Avery had not risen to become a ducal line by chance; and though Thomas was only the second son, he was certainly not the less intelligent son. He knew better than to rise against the Queen, whether her preparations were satisfactory or not. Indeed, though he himself had a vehement wish to eradicate the Wolves, the actions of others concerned him little. It had simply occurred to him that a handful of skilled allies might prove useful.

"I have no interest in any treasonous acts against Her Majesty," he said drily. "I merely wish to make certain that the beasts get what they deserve. The most thorough method would most likely be through a Crown-sanctioned army of Wardens bent on the task; but until Her Majesty provides further instruction in the matter, I see little choice but to prepare independently."

He watched her pace. "We are at war, are we not?" Though he had not attended the event himself, the events and words spoken that night were impossible for even his remaining family, in their solitary mourning, to escape.

Much of what she said seemed so obvious to him that Thomas would not have bothered putting it into words. The fact that she felt the need was not reassuring. However, in the spirit of attempting to form amiable relations, Thomas for once held his tongue. Mother would be so proud.

He did, however, frown at her final suggestion. Although it was true that an open forum might draw allies that he might not have otherwise thought of, it was equally true that it might draw the attention of useless persons. This notion did not please him in the least.

"I would not welcome every comer with open arms," he said. Quite the contrary, he would cheerfully be rid of anyone he deemed less than worthy. Though of course, he would be most pleased if it were invitation only.

At any rate, he had not planned on clandestine meetings; he had simply not planned on broadcasting his every movement to the world at large.

Cannon fodder was fine. Elsewhere. Thomas had no interest in dealing with them when his time could be better spent...and in his estimation, even humoring his father was a better allocation of time than paying any mind to idiots. "I am certain that there are other places which they might go to make themselves feel useful," he said. "Rather than slowing down a skilled group."

His lip curled slightly at the mere mention of whiners. Few things were more grating than whining. He had no patience for it. Not even...not even Tori had gotten away with it in his presence.

That was not strictly true - just because one knew of an elite group, it did not necessarily follow that one was capable of joining said group. However, Lady Wilhelmina seemed quite adamant in gaining her point. Where Thomas had wanted only a small, carefully selected strike team, she seemed to want a large, painfully public unit. She wanted to blend in.

Still, he could not help a matching grin from growing upon his lips. "How very vicious of you, milady." If nothing else, he had to appreciate her heartlessness. However, he was unwilling to give in entirely.

"Very well. Have your pawns, but I want nothing to do with them. They are yours to deal with. Nor, if this little training group grows as large as you seem to think it will, will I necessarily bring them hunting."

Already, he knew that there would be times when speed, skill, and precision would be infinitely more valuable than large groups weighed down by bait and fodder. Such a select group was his only real interest. But if his allies - and he did not doubt that others might see things her way - would be placated by pawns and camouflage, then so be it. He washed his hands of it.

He very much doubted that anything was capable of keeping him from hunting, especially not the stupidity of the masses. However, it seemed as good an arrangement as he was liable to gain unless he took his offer elsewhere. While that was certainly a viable option - there was no tangible reason why he had to include Lady Wilhelmina - he nonetheless wanted her.

Perhaps her complete lack of fear in the face of his sardonic tongue was just that refreshing. Or perhaps he had sensed something in her that may prove invaluable. But Thomas was not much in the mood for introspection at the moment. So rather than dissect the reasoning, he merely offered her a slight nod. "Passably tolerable," he said.

Another though seemed to occur to him. "I do hope you aren't the type to get easily attached, Lady Wilhelmina. It would be unwise to feel affection for lambs destined for slaughter."

"A grim outlook," he observed, for the first time feeling perhaps the slightest twinge of sympathy for the woman. Not that he would admit it to himself, let alone allow her to hear any sentiment in his voice. Grim or not, her pragmatism would surely be a necessary boon in times to come.

Still, the idea of his own death was a strange one. Just because Thomas had no interest in happy endings, as she put it, at the moment; it did not mean that he was opposed to the idea in the future. He simply had no room in his life for happiness or softness until he had exacted his revenge. Yet he always assumed that there would be an after. He lived, however subtly, as though life would carry on after the black beast was dead and the war was won. His own mortality had never been an issue. It would almost bear thinking upon except, of course, there would be no one to miss him were he to perish. So in the grand scheme of things, it really did not matter.

Brushing the question aside, he nodded to the lady. "I'll be in touch, shall I."

"And you," he said as Sigyn offered a regal nod of her own. The doe's lone good eye took a final glance at both woman and buck before she turned to take them back to their previous path.

Though the detour had certainly cost them time, Thomas felt that it had been worth their while. They had gained a tentative ally at little more than the cost of another hour or two's worth of journey in the dark - and despite the southerly location of his birth, the cold had never bothered him.

Yes. With this, the beginnings of his plans could be set into motion. They were no longer two, but four. And where there was a group, more would follow. Soon, he would have his band of allies to assist in the decimation of the Wolves. Not a single beast would be shown an ounce of mercy until he found the one he sought. Then...well. Then Sigyn would have a new fur coat.

With grim good humor, the pair disappeared into the forest.