10-18-2011, 11:51 AM
"What is a spear?" At that, Alma rose an eyebrow. She crossed her arms, a slight frown appearing on her snout. Was this child lying to her? Trying to play a trick on her? She was honest about having found it in a cave, at least. The coywolf was quiet as she listened to the child, trying to discern any hints of a lie.
She knew not who Talitha was, but assumed it to be the child's mother. Perhaps she was just curious, if she was going to ask about it? Then again, she said she was going to ask about it - not that she was going to ask and then put it back. Still, her mother probably would have told her to put it back, anyway. Her features relaxed slightly.
When the girl held the spear up, she saw that it was indeed hers. Alma could remember a few notches and depressions in the wooden handle, and the way the spearhead was tied to the top.
"That is a spear. You use the spearhead," she pointed to the sharpened stone at the top, "at the top to stab things. Prey, other canines. Some use it to catch fish." She might as well inform her on its uses, since the child seemed curious. "You can throw it at something, but that takes more skill. Simply standing and looking intimidating is often enough to keep others at bay. If not, then you stab them with it." Having said this, Alma eyed the child and the spear wearily, ready to step back should she try an experimental 'poke'. She remembered her own childhood well enough, and that was exactly the sort of thing she would have done.
Admittedly, Alma had been an exceptionally rude and quarrelsome child, and had only learned the use of following others when she had grown older. Such thoughts did not enter her mind, however; she just assumed all children would be exactly like she was.
She knew not who Talitha was, but assumed it to be the child's mother. Perhaps she was just curious, if she was going to ask about it? Then again, she said she was going to ask about it - not that she was going to ask and then put it back. Still, her mother probably would have told her to put it back, anyway. Her features relaxed slightly.
When the girl held the spear up, she saw that it was indeed hers. Alma could remember a few notches and depressions in the wooden handle, and the way the spearhead was tied to the top.
"That is a spear. You use the spearhead," she pointed to the sharpened stone at the top, "at the top to stab things. Prey, other canines. Some use it to catch fish." She might as well inform her on its uses, since the child seemed curious. "You can throw it at something, but that takes more skill. Simply standing and looking intimidating is often enough to keep others at bay. If not, then you stab them with it." Having said this, Alma eyed the child and the spear wearily, ready to step back should she try an experimental 'poke'. She remembered her own childhood well enough, and that was exactly the sort of thing she would have done.
Admittedly, Alma had been an exceptionally rude and quarrelsome child, and had only learned the use of following others when she had grown older. Such thoughts did not enter her mind, however; she just assumed all children would be exactly like she was.