Jupiter had finally decided to work up the courage to talk to Valentine about some things. The old man was just that, an old man, and yet somehow he was easily still the scariest wolf Jupiter knew. There was just something about how he was old as mud and still had a no fucks attitude that made Jupiter nervous around him. The two had tangled an awful lot when he was a yearling but Jupiter got the sense he hadn't seen all of Valentine's tricks yet. Honestly he was afraid of whatever the old man had left. At this stage he had nothing left to lose, right? Jupiter wouldn't put it past his old man to go out in a blaze of glory.

After nosing around the tractor to confirm Valentine was in there, Jupiter backed up a couple steps and then sat down. "Hey old man!" he yelled loud enough to send nearby birds into the air. "Got time for your favorite grandson? I wanna talk to you!" He wasn't sure what kind of hearing Valentine had left but he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Christ," Valentine's snarl echoed up from the depths of the den. After a minute his wizened face could be seen in the shadows. He glared up at Jupiter with bleary eyes. There was a sleep mark on the left side of his face and what might have been a little dry spittle although he would adamantly deny it. "I'm just old, not deaf. Asshole." He wormed his way out of the den and then sat hunched over like a sun hating vampire, blinking angrily in the bright light. He glared over at Jupiter, his expression hinting at a barely contained desire to bite him. "Well," he snapped. "I'm up. What do you want?"

Jupiter leaned back as Valentine slithered out of the den in case the old man decided to surprise him by leaping for his face. He waited until Valentine was settled and then took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about mistakes." This was something that Jupiter had been thinking about for a long time. The recent death of his father had impressed upon Jupiter the fleeting nature of life and the significance familial pressures had placed upon his life. Jupiter prided himself as a free spirit. He did what he wanted whenever he wanted. Or did he? Looking back there had been many a time where he'd not done something because he was afraid of how his family might react. He wasn't as free as he'd thought and that bothered him.

Valentine, his eyes narrowing and his expression becoming increasingly unreadable, stared daggers at Jupiter after he'd fallen silent. He waited for a second thinking there would be more, but when there wasn't, he asked gruffly, "What, you fuck your cousin too?" I mean, where else was he supposed to take that statement? In this family the only mistakes that mattered were awfully big. They could all get away with murder under the right circumstances. Which meant the field for truly bad mistakes was fairly small. It seemed a fair question, then, although he could only imagine which cousin might be dumb enough to take Jupiter on. There were a couple he wondered about.

Jupiter blinked once. Twice. His brow furrowed in genuine indignation. His tone equal parts offended and alarmed, he replied, "What? No!" God no. The story of Rhyme was as much of a boinking deterrent as weepy pustules; even if he would have been tempted, lured in by love or sex appeal, no fucking way. Valentine's question caught him off guard for more than just that reason. When he'd said mistakes he hadn't been thinking about that kind of mistake. But now that they were on the topic, he had some questions there too. "But I guess I want to talk about those kinds of mistakes too."

"You had a bunch of kids with a couple different women, right?" He was quiet for a second to make sure Valentine wasn't going to bite him for being insolent. When it seemed safe, he asked the dangerous question, "What makes what you did better than what Rhyme did?"

Somehow Valentine's eyes narrowed further. So this was going to be that kind of conversation. Wordlessly he stood up, turned around and wiggled back into his den. The sound of muffled clattering could be heard and then Valentine emerged again with a bottle. He went back in for a pair of bowls and then settled down in the same spot as before. Still without a word he used his paws to pour himself a bowl. Valentine then half scooted, half waved the bottle at Jupiter. This was a conversation he knew he needed with at least one member of his family before he died. He wanted to be civil for it, so booze it was.

"For starters I didn't knock up a relative," he said after taking a drink. "But I did make mistakes in my youth. I recognize that. I think I would have done things differently with that situation if I knew what I knew now. Perhaps set a precedent years prior. Hindsight and all that. Having a separate name for the bastards of undesirables, maybe." Like that nasty little midget Rhyme had fallen into or any number of the questionable partners Jupiter had likely taken. Never would he allow the product of weak individuals to carry his name. But bastards? Perhaps he should have been more forgiving when it came to those who would wear a different name.

He fixed Jupiter with a stern look. "Make no mistake. What Rhyme did was stupid. He deserved the punishment he got; he was a danger to our family name." Valentine paused, his gaze dropping to the bowl of alcohol for a second. He huffed pensively before continuing, "But perhaps he shouldn't have been given that name from the start." If he had critically assessed the personalities of both Cascade and Rhythm, he would have had to admit that Rhythm didn't possess the characteristics he desired in Imperialis children. That wouldn't have diminished his love for her any, but it may have set things up differently now. Perhaps if Rhyme had been given a different last name and thought nothing of it, things would be different today.