Word Count » 509
Enkiel was not presumptuous enough to question what it was that worked behind their Aquila’s mind. He had been a young man when he had returned and quickly forged a friendship (if one could call it that) with the jackal. They shared a medical interest, which was something Enkiel was glad for. With another capable healer able to be on the field, they would not endure such losses as previously suffered. Of course, some wounds could not be cured—one could not bring back the dead, after all. Still, he trusted that Ezekiel knew what he was doing. Gabriel had obviously seen something within the male, and time had proven this was not entirely untrue. Their numbers were stronger now than ever, and there was a slow-growing but present sense of familiarity between all of the members. If they learned to work and behave as a unit, then they would be unbreakable.
Of course, he recognized that such things were pipe dreams. Some people would never find kinship amongst this clan, and many would abandon them once warmer weather came. Enkiel remained carefully indifferent of such things. He was not a leader, not seen as such…and yet he was powerful in his own way, known, and this was truly all that mattered.
The main talent of Enkiel’s speech, came from the fact he was a foreigner. While Arabic was native to him, English was all he often spoke here…though he had begun teaching the kitten to respond in his native tongue to commands. It helped him remain fluent by talking aloud, though he doubted it would ever leave him. Common, now, that was harder. He processed words mechanically, though forming his own took finesse. It was because he spoke properly, and not with a dialect, that made his voice behave the way it did; while always a deep, throaty noise, the tempo of his words were slower than others. This was not to say he did not speak clearly, but some concepts (such as contractions) failed him.
A faint smile crossed his face, pleased by her arrogance. She was a true woman of this country—if she had behaved in such a manner like those mad-Arabs kept their own, her tongue would have been cut. Yet Enkiel favored strong women, if only for the fact he had never been a man challenged; he craved someone who would stand up to his demanding ways.
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