She did not ask what exactly the power the witch was unable to control. Admitting a flaw wasn't easy and Raven was not going to press upon it any further. The lupine knew of her own flaws and speaking them aloud to a complete stranger wasn't something she wanted to do. How a knife would help her stay in control, she did not know, but once again she would not ask. Leaving her alone for a moment Raven moved into the dark part of the warehouse to shift in silence and at ease. It wasn't difficult to miss the way the woman stared at her. Everyone always stared at her. Sometimes it was because her mate was doing something abnormal like muttering to him, or trying to catch the colorful lights unseen to the human eye, or wearing something ridiculously on his head. Yet even with him at her side she could feel the way strangers looked upon her. So, she ducked her head to allow her golden-brown curls cascade down to cover her face. In front of Emerson it would be no different, she would lower her head and head towards the door, trying to focus on getting the woman to the hotel, rather than continue to feel her eyes upon her form. As they walked she would lift the hood up and stuff her hands in her pockets. When the witch asked her a personal, and pointed question, Raven didn't stop walking, but rather continued in absolute silence.
No one had ever pointedly asked her such a question. In fact no one ever spoke to her about it. Rather no one really expressed any interest of asking. Raven never spoked about it with anyone, not her witch familiar, not her Alpha, and certainly not her mate. She did explain it when necessary or accidentally. No one wanted to bring up the past with her and in a way Raven didn't want in the first place. She didn't know what to say or truly where to start if someone did inquire her about it. Was she ashamed? Of course. The she-wolf knew it wasn't her fault, and yet she felt responsible. If she didn't have the ability of being feral then maybe she would have received the love from her parents and pack. Yet she could not play the 'what if' game. Here and now she had someone asking how she received her scars and Raven wasn't sure if she felt comfortable unleashing the past that constantly haunted her. With a heavy sigh her shoulders slacked for a moment as she softly uttered a mournful response.
Emerson spoke of something personal and so Raven responded in return.