Theron's emotions had been mellowed out due to the addition of his Dark Mana. It had taken some time, but he no longer felt the same violent highs and low lows. On the one hand, that allowed him to be a more balanced man, but on the other, it had made it quite a while since the last time his father's necklace had done much of anything.
Honestly, Theron didn't originally know how to feel about this. Had he deviated so far from his Clan's bloodline that the necklace was useless to him now?
One of the reasons he had been so against gaining Dark Mana to begin with was because he didn't want to have to forget his origins. He wanted to represent the Galethunder, to be the man his parents hoped he would be.
But if his father's necklace wasn't reacting… then didn't that mean it was already too late?
Theron was torn. He inwardly knew that his mind was more balanced like this. He couldn't keep living life on the edge of a knife. He didn't even feel like himself in that state.
