What do

Gryphon's answer was curt and sharp, though not directed at him; moreso, at what was plaguing them both. Lykos hummed in thought, chuckling darkly at Gryphon's words. "Likely," he agreed. He took after their mother and the Ancora side of the family; his fur was thick, soft, and fluffy, but even he could see the thinness of his brother's fur from this close. He was meant for the warm lands, such as the South or even the West, but certainly not the North. Unlike his brother, he was not so certain that Gryphon's pelt would thicken, if it had not done so already.

He didn't dwell on it - it wasn't a pressing issue, and Gryphon had already moved on, a sharp bluntness coming out in his shorter sibling. A wry smile twisted his lips, and he laughed sharply, a similar derision and distaste mirrored in his own tone. "I do agree, to a degree. You would be good at it, my brother, but it is not your place. Your place is that of a guardian and of a protector - not that of a leader." He both agreed and disagreed, it seemed; the latter - Gryphon's place - seemed agreed on, at the very least. He nodded towards his words. "Yes. I do not trust them yet." He snorted as his brother mentioned Dragon and Kharnage; no, they would not be good. They were immature, idiotic, and had no common sense. No, definitely not. Not that anything would happen to Mother, anyways. It better not, anyways.

Blue eyes glittered, a cold hardness that sparked with the hidden emotions as he met his brother's eyes. "Yes. We do." A slight growl deepened his words, as he let his control slip. "I do not trust these wolves - and this Vereux." He would find out about this man. One way, or another.