Axel: Rae & Fen
Concealed appetites were the opposite of his disdain for the world but ran parallel with his notions about fate. Fate said his siblings were forfeit. Fate said his jaws would snap too late around the one eyed bastard. Fate was something Fen had cast off the same as he had the ties that had attempted to bind him. He'd shatter it if he had to, break it along with himself if that's what it took. He wouldn't ignore it, not like he did the popcorn, but instead he'd deny it. He'd not give it a chance to weave itself around his life. He'd silence it with his fangs, drown it out with his roars, and trample it into the dirt. He wouldn't even bury the carcass, but instead leave it like carrion on the wind, a warning to anyone or anything that ever sought to shackle him ever again.
"It leaves much to be desired." Fen replied, clipped as ever though not so motivated by the topic or to whom he was speaking. Whether he meant the philosophy or the world itself, he wouldn't say.
In truth, there was much it offered and little Fen wanted. He wanted a quiet wood. He wanted a dry place to sleep. He wanted a full belly and a chance to test his mettle. Anything beyond that, even the notions of pleasure, were washed in his own skewed sight. She was right to caution him against the sidelines, she was right to warn that perhaps the path he saw was unrealistic if not an outright mirage, but his gaze shifted not an inch in acknowledgement. Instead he tracked sights upon the floor, as though the barrier between them and the rink was tall grass that might hide the predator himself. Instead he sized up anything in the room he thought might provide some suitable challenge to him and cast off another snort, this one clear in its disappointment, at the lack of available options.
"It affords what it needs to." Whatever that meant, and it took a great many shapes that didn't likely qualify in the way she'd asked, that was his measurement. She'd nailed the center of his care for the place, that which took the shape of Hel and Jorgi, and beyond that Fen saw no need to evaluate it further.
Still, there was a pause as his gaze dropped to the carton she dangled before his it lifted back to her. She had asked him a question and, in some manner, Fen sought to provide a more suitable answer to it. He didn't owe it to her, not just for asking, but her aligned desire to be done with the place they had shared in the past and apparent affinity with his sibling was enough to award her more than the scrap.
"The woods are quiet." Which he did greatly appreciate. "And there is something to whet any appetite." Which was spoken more for his Brother and Sister's concern than his own, but still something that seemed to fall in the arena of 'enjoyment' to Fen as his eyes settle on her. He wouldn't return the question with his words, but instead settled the inquiry flatly in his look.