quite eradicated
It was easy to see, especially now, that the wounds did not come from any sort of training. He could not deny that fact—they were high on the shoulders, on his back, in places and ways that a trained eye could recognize. Certainly, had he not known any sort of medical knowledge, they might have been passed off as a training accident. Lord knew those two had been bloodying each other since Helotes had first approached the woman about lessons. Unfortunately for his two subordinates, Ezekiel had spent countless hours under tutelage and knew more about medicine then most. He could not compare to Enkiel, but oh he was no fool.
The mask on his face remained a careful smile, though the tips of his teeth loomed forth as the flustered man spoke. Hydra now, Ezekiel reminded himself. Though it was not entirely formally required, he had expected a kill from the man before claiming his rank. When the presentation of the thing had been presented, Ezekiel had done just that. While he would have liked the skull for the borders, he instead tanned the pelt himself and presented this to the man. Any doubts of him favoring wolfish cousins was evaporated by such a thing—no wolf would be comfortable with a dead man’s skin on the back of a hybrid.
“No,” he replied easily, tail swishing once behind him as a cats might have done. He had not failed to recognize that there was now an influx of the domesticated kind, and this irritated him. Cats in general were looked down upon by the de le Poer, though he could forgive these less savage creatures. Bobcats and lynxes, wildcats all of them, he sought to destroy. Not many prospered in this land. He had killed two after the slaughter of the ravens last season, and their pelts were kept for trade. “I would have called you if it was important,” the Aquila went on, shrugging one shoulder dismissively.
The blonde man left the tree, advancing to the water’s edge. His feet, cleansed by the snow and this damp, soggy earth, showed their true color (due to his excessive travel, they often were dulled by earth and dust) of copper-red, close but not as bold as the shades seen in various members of the clan. Lykoi blood seemed to favor such things; reds, expressively. The gold was from his father’s bloodline, and had not been recreated out of such a thing…except with Samael, who was a creature warped by hell and madness and the very real disease that had taken what was left of him.
“I spoke with Halo,” he went on, tone shifting slightly. It was perhaps more friendly now, less stern. He forced control over such a thing as he did his face, unwilling to break in front of these people. “Seems you two had a rough night of…training,” he grinned ferociously, this time forgoing any subtlety. As a man, he recognized the appeal of a body like that of his Triarii. Perhaps once he too might have found desire for her, but the moral code by which he lived and the truth of her nature had made the woman not an object of lust, but one of war. She was his reluctant commander; she was the master of this singular knight when there should have been three. Soon, the hybrid Aquila thought, soon enough. Max was likely to advance to the role of Hastati soon, and Symera’s training was progressing rapidly. He would not allow her to claim the rank until he himself had worked with her, for he was certain Halo had wrapped her claws around the girl. Eventually, he would break her hold; he would break her again if it came to such a thing.
@import url(http://bloodandfire.sleepyglow.net/publ ... s/zeke.css);
</style>
[/html]