Tyler was ignorant to most of it until his father died. Maybe that's what starts all of this in motion, someone dying. A parent dying. His father died his Uncle Mason came to town and suddenly he learns that there's a family curse. Werewolves. He triggers it and it's all downhill from there. One thing after another. So many deaths (including his own, including Caroline's, and Jeremy's) and changes and no matter how hard they try they can never get a win there.

Not even one.

Tyler nods in agreement, crushing his own can into a ball before he throws it at one of the trees. "It's complete bullshit. It wasn't an accident she was murdered. That bastard was upset that I freed his little slaves and took it out on my mother and now everyone just thinks she's some sloppy drunk and it's not right. It's not fair."

He has to take a deep breath then, trying to calm that anger, the rage that comes with being a werewolf (not to mention amplified vampire emotions) that seems harder and harder to manage these days.

Part of him doesn't want to manage it, that's what he doesn't say. It'd be so easy to just give in. To just turn it off.