Lorcan d'Eath

"Of course I mean after. They at least have the sense to hold onto the normal ones." Even squibs weren't thrown out of slaughtered much these days, save by Death Eaters, and they were practically muggles. One bite made all the difference in the world, and for the better of it. Although he criticized their parenting, he much preferred them to abandon their young—let him raise them, instead. Werewolves weren't meant to be raised by anyone but their own kind. Greyback chuckled. "Surely you don't think I'm a fool? My territory is well hidden, trust me." Protective charms and wards and even a few well-placed artefacts kept his compound from being found. Was it foolproof? Not inherently... but it was damn well close. "But even fools aren't keen on stealing werewolf cubs. More likely to just ignore them on the streets. I'm protecting them from hatred."

"Not all of them," he shrugged. He saw people throw out kids all of the time for various things. The added bite just made it easier to do so. He understood it to a point. A werewolf wasn't an easy thing to handle, there wasn't anything you could do on the full moon besides hope they were okay. "A fool, no. Possibly sociopathic, murderous for sure, probably thought about biting my kid, and smarter than people give you credit for, yeah I think that. A fool though, hardly." They did not think the same way, that was clear, but everyone had their reasons for doing things. It wasn't up to Lorcan to judge. His job was to protect Roisin and make music. "Even the poachers? I always thought they were a special kind of stupid to try. You'd think you wouldn't try to steal from a vampire, but someone tried. Not even worth the snack with someone like that."

"You act like I'm doing it on purpose." He was, of course. "Not like we've got a lot of control, see. I can't stop the little ones from wandering away from mummy and daddy." The only way for a werewolf to maintain control, maybe, was relatively new—and exorbitantly expensive. No werewolf could hope to prepare it themselves. "At least I don't abandon them when it happens. Shouldn't they have that little voice to tell them to hang onto their kids?" Greyback shrugged. "Better than nothing." How vampires chose to keep themselves from extinction didn't interest him much. They could do whatever they wished. "How do you think I protect them? I keep them hidden. They don't leave the den without my permission." Not necessarily his supervision—he couldn't watch all of them—but he needed to know where they went. "But you can't keep them cooped up all the time. That's when they drive you mental."

Lorcan raised a brow at him. How could he not believe that Fenrir was biting children on purpose? "If you mean before they are bitten, most do. As for after, they still should but we are just monster to them." Lorcan's own mother had wanted him but his father had tried dating more than once and he saw what happened. Even he had his own kid dropped off because of what he was. Lorcan had asked because he didn't know. Before he could say anything he watched his daughter snag one of the boy's arms and pin it behind his back. He didn't have to say anything before she let him go. "Hidden doesn't always work. People are assholes and they go digging if they really want something. It is why she can do that. Some people are stupid enough to try and snatch things while you are right there." He hated that day. Someone trying to snatch her.

That was the weird thing about werewolves to Lorcan. They aren’t born really. Vampires could be, or at least. Partly. Which left the questions who bit a child to turn them and why. He knew one of the answers. “Why children?” He dared to ask it. Mostly curious about the thought process. “Vampires can’t do that, people turn to killing if it happens. Besides bit cruel to freeze someone in time as a child.”

"Well the adults can fend for themselves, mostly. But I can't in good conscience leave the little ones out to rot." Fenrir knew what Lorcan had actually been asking—why they had been bitten when they were only children. He did, as a rule, bite more children than anyone, but getting rid of the petty morality of it—yes, it did tend to destroy their prospects and cause their families to abandon them—it was the most sensible route to take. They had no natural chance to shape their own generations. Children were malleable; the werewolves that lived to adulthood on their own were often too feeble and weak-willed to bother with. "People," he emphasized coldly; "will turn to killing no matter what you do. But of course it's more sensible for your lot to wait. No need to turn anyone at all when you can just pop out your own." He knew other magical species would never truly be able to understand his position, but so long as they didn't get in his way, they would benefit from the world he intended to create.

Lorcan didn't trust that as the true answer. Children were easier to mold than adults, they were sponges. Take a sponge and soak it with what you want and they learn that. He was old enough to know the true answer, and he understood it to a point. "You don't have that little voice in your head that says maybe don't bite children do you?" Lorcan chuckled a little at the words. "Mhm, it isn't that easy. Two vampires can't make a child. You need a human to do that. Then you fully change them as an adult." Lorcan was only half still, but he was already talking to his father about changing that part too. "How do you protect them? From the killing when they are so young?"

That was the weird thing about werewolves to Lorcan. They aren’t born really. Vampires could be, or at least. Partly. Which left the questions who bit a child to turn them and why. He knew one of the answers. “Why children?” He dared to ask it. Mostly curious about the thought process. “Vampires can’t do that, people turn to killing if it happens. Besides bit cruel to freeze someone in time as a child.”