OoC: So sorry for my absence! Thank you for waiting!
Cwmfen reverted to her polite, quiet speech, and Slay found himself curious yet again about her origins. His markings made him stand out wherever he went; he had learned to adopt a mischievous, cavorting, playful exterior, one to make himself seem comical and nonthreatening despite the foreign design of his fur. It had gained him acceptance and trust, even in lands with prejudice like this one. Had this mysterious huntress taken the opposite route, letting her self-conscious mind hide behind the oft-stared-at marks of blue? Or had there been some trigger, that caused her to retreat from the world? Her bright smile and chiming laugh made a fondness swell in his chest - perhaps he could bring out a braver side in her, that hidden confidence she had flashed for but a second.
"Our land has a variety, as I'm sure you've noticed - smaller prey, like rabbits, fish, and I've heard turkey before - and the larger, hoofed sort. There's a family of deer that grazes not far from here," he added, tilting his muzzle curiously to see if that was what she was after. It had been some moons since he had felled a deer, but it wasn't something easily forgotten. Pair-hunting intrigued him, and he hoped the newcomer was as ambitious as she seemed.
He had done well, in the years that had passed him since leaving his crazed father and his twisted pack. He had made great efforts to become as normal as he could, never tempted to take charge or be the leader he had been raised to be. Still... there was a deeper side to him, one that the drowsy friendship and cheerful jokes masked well. Slay's ferocity could be triggered by rage, a burning passionate anger that few had seen, and none wanted to see again. Not a soul in Dahlia knew that he was capable of violence. He was, after all, quite slow to anger. He had shamefully avoided the pointless war with Inferni for that reason. He would rather live peacefully.
Still, he had come close when he'd seen the pitiable injuries inflicted on his friend Cercelee, and heard that a coyote had attacked her. Slay wasn't sure why that memory had suddenly sprung to mind, except that the intense look of wild pride in Cwmfen nic Graine's bone-white eyes suddenly frightened him, and he realized he did not want to be the one to call on her warrior side...
"In any case, it is entirely up to you. I simply hope that I can make this an enjoyable pairing." Once again, he couldn't resist the obvious double-entendre -- she was a lovely young lady, enigmas notwithstanding!
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
