Killian, in contrast, was a cat who lived a life of luxury. He didn't have to worry about the tithes, for his family were royalty, Dvorayne of the House Sterling currently lead by Vrachii Lakeveil, his own mother. They hadn't always been this way, his line tracing back before the Monarchy ever existed, back to a time where BrookClan worshiped StarClan, and the customs the clan now followed, along with many of it's lines and houses, did not exist. They'd always had a paw in power, from the time the Monarchy accepted broken BrookClan into it's ranks and his grandmother became Vrachii, to his line aiding in two coups, first for Kerrigan of Harlow House, then for Tasman E'Clair, Loki's mother, in turn for his mother becoming Vrachii.

The tom was a kind soul, unlike some cats, his own brother Cesare for example, though this was perhaps not surprising. He was the heir of the House, the first in line to guide it one his mother stepped down or died, and though the Dvorayne was a wild and free soul, despite being blind, he never seemed to treat others as lesser for their status. After all, he'd been one of the first litters born to the Monarchy, had lived his youth in the Vrachii's den, respected for Springlockedgrave's rank, but not royalty, at least not initially. Not that he didn't appreciate the perks of his status, not having to worry if his line caught less prey due to his disability, which ran rampant in the entire line, nor having to deal with a constant stream of work. He could relax where others couldn't, and he knew as much.

His ears pricked at the sound of a cat leaving prey for the royals, and the blue spotted bengal turned his head to listen further. Hearing the cat stay near the waterfall, the base of which held a tunnel which the Vrachii and Acecoop made their home, the tom trotted forth, blinking blank eyes as he picked his way towards the sound of the other. "Hello." Killian greeted, allowing his voice to flow over the stones to whomever it might be that was here.