“An old Cherokee told his grandson,“My son, there is a battle between two wolves inside us all.One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy and truth.”The boy thought about it, and asked, “Grandfather, which wolf wins?”The old man quietly replied, “The one you feed.”
- Cherokee proverb

His brown hair was feathered and wild, falling over his forehead in shaggy tufts, with bright orange streaks throughout. 

Clare felt a volcanic rage rise in her chest. Her heart thumped loudly and she curled her hands into fists. Arwin wasn’t a damaged soul wearing the mask of a malevolent soldier. He didn’t give a damn about her or Kilah (Kee-la). He was a lying, murdering, ruthless Shaidanian (Sha-dae-nee-an). Nothing more, nothing less.