I have a very particular set of skills, skills that make me a nightmare

Crux fought off the urge to fidget nervously as he felt Widow's keen stare. He even managed to avoid showing the usual flash of annoyance he felt whenever someone focused on his leg for just a little longer than they would anyone else. But it would have been a stretch to say he looked comfortable, because he wasn't. He was very well aware of the power this woman held over him and the future he'd started to envision and for all he felt for Cryptis the last thing he ever wanted to do was get between her and her mother... Good old dead mom issues saw to that.

Still he was doing his absolute best to channel all he'd learned to survive. The careful composure and choices of words to avoid the ire of others. The part of himself that had been raised as the son of a leader and knew that's who he had to be when out in the world beyond his home. When Widow told him she'd not been waiting long Crux still gave her a gracious nod in acknowledgement and waited patiently as she spoke. He wasn't even surprised when the woman gave him a birth name, his memory pinging off his first meeting with Triss. The part of his brain he'd set to remembering that in case it was ever relevant that a Klein was living in Insomnia. It never had been and he was grateful for that. He even nodded in quiet agreement when she brought up the importance of chosen family. Safe to say if he didn't somewhat agree he wouldn't have been here to begin with.

But the mention of Triss possibly seeing him as family did make Crux blush and he unconsciously dropped his gaze for a moment, more and more as of late thinking about Triss in very serious terms made his stomach fill up with butterflies and he failed to stop a small smile at the thought before he snapped back into "Son of the warlord" mode and brought his attention solidly back up to Widow.

As for his family. Crux thought for a moment, mentally mapping out what he was or was not going to share, he figured honesty was a good policy here but the woman didn't need to know about his personal disagreement with his nephew. For all his problems with what had happened he wasn't about to sell his old home and family up the river. Finally he spoke, keeping his gaze evenly on Widow though it wasn't searching her in return.

"My full name is Crux Fatalis. My father is Sirius Fatalis and my mother was Zeitgeist Fatalis. I am the son of the former warlord of Armada. That said my litter is the youngest of three and none of us were expected to take over in our father's stead so my relationship to pack politics starts and ends at decorum and discretion. I am aware of the fraught history between my former home and yours but know nothing of the details." Simple he hoped and a slight indication that while he understood his own heritage might put her off it had no effect on his feelings or intentions for her, her family and especially not Triss. And perhaps a subtle hint that he wouldn't be particularly useful against his former home in the event she was tempted to try.

Crux paused for a moment, thinking before he continued: "My relationship with my greater family is variable, some of my older siblings are as good as strangers to me, some are outright antagonistic and a few are pleasant if a little distant. In that regard I very much understand the value of a chosen family. There are those that if given the chance I would not pick myself. I have gotten on with my litter mates and father better, historically." How they all felt about him now? Hard to say. Crux figured once he was more settled he ought to go see his father himself and face whatever disappointment that would surely bring head on and as for the siblings he'd left in Armada? He still wanted to try and patch things up with them but he wasn't sure that was possible... He was starting to understand for maybe the first time what Dread had gone through. Crux purposefully dropped his gaze then, knowing he wasn't likely going to be able to hide the still raw emotion.

"As for my mother... She passed before our first birthday so I cannot speak much about her myself. She is the reason I have devoted much time to studying medicine." He gently drew a paw along the cuff he wore on his right foreleg, gently brushing the leopard skin fur his mother had once worn. He fell awkwardly silent then, some part of him wanted to profess then and there that because of that he had no intentions of trying to take Cryptis from her mother but felt it would only ring hollow. He quietly brushed his paw up and down a few more times before he cleared his throat, banishing the emotions that were threatening to surface and lifted his head again to look at Widow. He had said his piece and expected there would be further questions. Probably better to wait until he was spoken to than to rather than speak first.

"Speech!"

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