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Herryk had been doing nothing of importance, really. He had yet to find a purpose of his own, unlike his sisters and even his brother Odd. All of them had found something worth occupying their time, and at times Herryk felt a surge of frustration about it. He did not feel comfortable within the confines of the pride. It was too stifling, too suffocating.

It was not the forest.

When his sister called out to him, Herryk brightened. He did not see enough of his sisters. This bothered him.

"Sister. You are looking lovely." He dipped his head in greeting, though his brows shot up as he pondered he question.

"I live out here," he answered simply. "So I must ask, what brings you out here?"

Herryk took the compliment in stride, almost as if he didn't really know how to react to it. He watched her fluid movements with interest, taking special interest in the pouch she wore across her back. The corner of his mouth turned down in a frown. Herryk couldn't help but feel a little upset by the fact she was wearing it, though outwardly he remained as stoic as possible.

"How is Mother? I have not seen her in some time. Calder? Odd? Ember? Ormarr? I have not seen anyone in far too long."

He did not ask about the one who had drawn the fey family from the woods. The Warlord.

Herryk loved his family, and he valued the ties that they had. It pained him when they could not spend the time together that a family should, but he wasn't sure who he should be utterly upset at. The Warlord? Herryk snorted softly to himself before narrowing his eyes at his sister.

"I do not require more than I have, sister. Have you forgotten the woods? Have you forgotten what we are?"

His heart ached to think of his sisters assimilating into the pride. They did not belong here. None of them did.

It was obvious that Herryk did not share the views that Broni did. He narrowed his eyes in reaction to her sharp tone, ears pinning back the slightest. Half forest? Not Herryk. He did not believe himself to be half-Stormborn.

Herryk stamped a paw in childish annoyance. His sister did not understand, this much was obvious.

"I am not half-Stormborn," he said in defiance, a feral expression contorting his features. "He is no father of mine. He wanted only Calder. This place is nothing but blood and rage, and each day that I am here I find myself growing more and more disgusted with everything."

Herryk remained quiet for a long, long while, silently watching his sister gather mushrooms. He'd upset her, he could tell by both the tone of her voice and the jerky motions she used to gather mushrooms from the fragrant, dark earth. He wasn't sure what to say next -- if there was one downfall to remaining in the forest as opposed to living with others in the pride, it was that his social skills had taken a beating.

"Does he ever spend time in the woods with the spirits, Broni?" Herryk still refused to call his father by name. His father, bah. "Do the spirits even call to you anymore, sister?" Or have I lost you forever, as well?

For a single moment, Herryk wished that things were as cut-and-dry for him as they were for his sister. He did not know why his sister seemed to want to paint a pretty picture of their father, but Herryk could not share the vision. After all, Aesir had never once tried to approach Herryk in the forest -- at least to the best of Herryk's knowledge -- and this was just one more thing to add to the mountainous heap of resentment that Herryk had for his father.

"I will leave you to your mushrooms, sister," Herryk said abruptly, though he took note of the mushrooms that she had been picking. He would gather more for her and leave them for her so that she would not have to come this deep into the forest by herself.

"Give mother my love, and Ormarr and Ember as well. Tell Calder and Odd that I hope to see them soon." He dipped his head in farewell before turning an about-face, soon disappearing within the shadows of the forest.