The werewolf was always eager to learn and understand things she did not know. Naturally curious she wasn't afraid to utter her inquiry to anyone that would listen. Gently poking the Were-horse with questions was not an easy feat. She was anxious. After all she was certain that he wouldn't be so forthcoming with answers. The man was difficult to read. And he was far more difficult to speak to, hardly willing to speak less than a few words. He was just like her Alpha. Why Tetradore constantly was aloof, the lupine hardly knew, but it made it difficult for her to connect with him. Wasn't that something an Alpha was supposed to do, connect? They worked together, lived together, conversed with each other every now and then, but Raven hardly knew him. Raven was not expecting Frost to answer her questions. She was expecting him to give her little to no information at all. So, when he was willing to give her one of the stories, she sat still, watching him carefully. Inwardly she was ecstatic that he was telling her these things. However, she was also concerned. Because he was never like this, he wasn't very talkative, not even when they were trapped within that hell hole with the demented Dark Hunter. The story about the four different packs and the Gods really shouldn't have surprised her. Packs were territorial and by nature alone, they had a need to exert their dominance over others. That they would fight one another over something they had, or something they wanted, that was practically the story of all things! With a shake of her head and deflated sigh, she sat a bit back into her chair looking dismayed.

"Same old same old I guess? One pack wanted more power than the others. What does your pack medallion do? Do you know?"

Of course she would ask Frost about his own pack and what they had that the other packs would want. Raven had no idea, and in any case, he wouldn't eventually find out her own. After all she would have to go to him for aide, and naturally the answer to what her medallion would lead her to, would be revealed. Whether Raven believed in the story or not, it didn't necessarily matter. The medallion was real enough. It was odd though, that in some way, they belonged to the same area, or at least culture. It was a shame though that she didn't know much about her own. Disappointed in herself, and her pack, she longed to learn more about this hidden knowledge. While he started to talk about Fenrir, Raven couldn't help, but see the eerie similarities. A frown would start to crawl upon her scarred face as she tilted her head downwards, shaking her head. Blue-grey eyes would close as his story triggered a memory. Raven could recall the time she was encouraged, innocently, to put on the 'bracelets' as her Father called it. For whatever stupid reason, her child mind was eager to put them on, knowing that other little girls wore jewelry. She didn't have any jewelry, and seeing those 'bracelets' within her Father's hand was exciting! When the bracelets snapped in place she giggled, clapping her hands, watching and hearing as they jangled. It wasn't until he got up to walk away, that when she followed, she noticed she was being held back. It didn't take long for her to realize that the bracelets were the reason why she was stuck in the room. After crying and freaking out she only accepted her fate, when she was repeatedly slapped and harshly told to be quiet. Ever since then she hated her 'bracelets.'

Biting her lip she slowly reopened her eyes, shivering slightly, as she attempted to discard that horrible memory. She understood Fenrir's hatred. She was just as upset with her own pack. And yet the docile woman hardly wished to inflict pain as her way of revenge. All she wanted was an apology and acceptance. Her other, wilder half, wanted to inflict as much pain as they had felt. Although deep down, underneath all those layers of kindness and consideration, Raven did feel like what Fenrir did was justifiable, and that maybe when she attacked her pack, it was justifiable too. Raven didn't want to admit it. Not in front of Frost. Weakly she shook her head in a 'no' fashion when Frost asked her, if she would blame Fenrir from attacking the Gods. However, Raven did think that he shouldn't have destroyed the word! Murmuring softly she briefly lifted her eyes to look up at him, and then shifting them down towards the table again.

"That story is familiar, at least in ways with me. That is awful that they did that to him. No, I wouldn't blame him. I'd do the same th-"

Suddenly Raven would go silent. It would appear, that although her feral side wanted to make her pack suffer, that small part of her was eager to voice out in agreement too! Ashamed with herself she didn't say another word. Instead she remained silent until he instructed her to be prepared, as he would explain the medallion and read the markings, only once. After she learned about the odd ingredients she would need to gather, she was eager to give him the other medallions. It was a shame that the serpent medallion she had would be of no use. However, she was dissatisfied to learn about the avian medallion. It sounded like a very lucky medallion to have! To overhear a conversation, and yet to only use it once, well it seemed unfair. Raven had no need to spy on others, but if she had to, she was sure she would want to use it more than once. It was when he spoke up and mentioned the feline medallion was Freya, that caused her to lift her head up in curiosity. Gently she attempted to pry out more information from Frost.

"You mean these things, whatever it is these medallions do, they can only be used once? Well, that's unfortunate. I have two of the four pack medallions? Why do you say my mate would enjoy it, even if it is ruined? Where would she take us, and what would she open?"

Raven Clocksworth.