
Quiverstep had been listening earnestly at Prize and Silk's words, but at Remember's spiel, he audibly snorted.
"That is ridiculous. Your colours and markings have nothing do with your nature, what has that got to do with anything?" He was not usually one to be so rude, but Remember was not one of Quiverstep's favourite tribe members. The other buck made him feel uncomfortable, for who in their right mind enjoys seeing things die?! What was he trying to say? That his mother and father were "coocoo"?
"No, that's not right. We..." Quiverstep thought about his name, his origins. He thought about Watch Me, his ever narcissistic leader.
"I don't think we are born as blank slates. Our dreams shape us somehow, the Motherfather shapes us, but you two are also right," he gestured at Prize and Silk,
"there is no inherent nature as a whole, it depends on destiny, on your environment, and personal experience."