08-09-2009, 03:20 PM
[html]
http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s304 ... -table.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-bottom:235px; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#000000; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#FDBC43; line-height:16px">
------While Jael's borderline emaciated form may have once concerned him, Anselm had come to accept "extra thin" as the standard for Inferni. Several others had always struck him as underweight: Samael, Hybrid, maybe even Talitha. The wolf had gone so far as to offer part of his kill to the former so long ago, though he'd been turned down. Similarly, though the limp carcass of the rabbit hung nearby, Jael made no move to claim what was rightfully his. Why would the Arctic male bother procuring bribes for a bird that was not even an informant? Anselm had always been rather greedy with his food, eating quickly and in such quantity that suggested he knew all too well the trials of famine. Rather than dwell upon it, though, he was content to move on to the bigger and better things at hand. If they were still alive, something had to be working out for them.
------The bird had flown away, and he watched it as it vanished into the foliage of the treetops. "Such creatures hold few loyalties, at any rate..." he offered. "It is best we rely on ourselves." The lesser creatures of the forest lacked the instinctual ties to the pack and family that they held dear, and as such they were prone to vanishing without warning. They had their own priorities--finding mates, raising children, possibly migrating for the harsh winters they were not equipped to endure. Anselm always considered whatever information he could glean from Abraxas as a free bonus, not a given.
------He nodded at the fiery-eyed boy's questions: "Correct on both accounts. It's good to meet you, Jael," he answered. The words spoken were in truth, too: Anselm liked keeping tabs on Inferni's internal affairs as much as the foreign ones. That meant knowing who belonged there and who didn't, what everyone looked like, their basic skill sets, and knowing their scents to keep track of how often they were even around at home (versus gallivanting off through the country side). This was an inherent prejudice built into him--excursions away from home were to be generally limited to gathering information and resources, otherwise it was best to be on call in case of emergency. If even half of their membership base was away at any given time, they would be much more vulnerable to a full on assault. Being around the Dampwoods, Arachnea's Revenge, Drifter Bay or Halifax was one thing, but what about Serena Reserve, the Trenches, or anything similarly distant? Howls might not even reach that far and it would take time to regroup, especially now that they couldn't even take a straight shot home (legally, at least), as Dahlia had laid claim to the breadth of the peninsula right up to Halifax.
------"Do you have similar aspirations?" he wondered further, easily spotting the same potential in Jael that Gabriel did. Anselm certainly wasn't opposed to passing on some of his techniques to the next generation--this was the first time he might have a pupil willing to learn the ways of the Machiavellian Sleuth.
------While Jael's borderline emaciated form may have once concerned him, Anselm had come to accept "extra thin" as the standard for Inferni. Several others had always struck him as underweight: Samael, Hybrid, maybe even Talitha. The wolf had gone so far as to offer part of his kill to the former so long ago, though he'd been turned down. Similarly, though the limp carcass of the rabbit hung nearby, Jael made no move to claim what was rightfully his. Why would the Arctic male bother procuring bribes for a bird that was not even an informant? Anselm had always been rather greedy with his food, eating quickly and in such quantity that suggested he knew all too well the trials of famine. Rather than dwell upon it, though, he was content to move on to the bigger and better things at hand. If they were still alive, something had to be working out for them.
------The bird had flown away, and he watched it as it vanished into the foliage of the treetops. "Such creatures hold few loyalties, at any rate..." he offered. "It is best we rely on ourselves." The lesser creatures of the forest lacked the instinctual ties to the pack and family that they held dear, and as such they were prone to vanishing without warning. They had their own priorities--finding mates, raising children, possibly migrating for the harsh winters they were not equipped to endure. Anselm always considered whatever information he could glean from Abraxas as a free bonus, not a given.
------He nodded at the fiery-eyed boy's questions: "Correct on both accounts. It's good to meet you, Jael," he answered. The words spoken were in truth, too: Anselm liked keeping tabs on Inferni's internal affairs as much as the foreign ones. That meant knowing who belonged there and who didn't, what everyone looked like, their basic skill sets, and knowing their scents to keep track of how often they were even around at home (versus gallivanting off through the country side). This was an inherent prejudice built into him--excursions away from home were to be generally limited to gathering information and resources, otherwise it was best to be on call in case of emergency. If even half of their membership base was away at any given time, they would be much more vulnerable to a full on assault. Being around the Dampwoods, Arachnea's Revenge, Drifter Bay or Halifax was one thing, but what about Serena Reserve, the Trenches, or anything similarly distant? Howls might not even reach that far and it would take time to regroup, especially now that they couldn't even take a straight shot home (legally, at least), as Dahlia had laid claim to the breadth of the peninsula right up to Halifax.
------"Do you have similar aspirations?" he wondered further, easily spotting the same potential in Jael that Gabriel did. Anselm certainly wasn't opposed to passing on some of his techniques to the next generation--this was the first time he might have a pupil willing to learn the ways of the Machiavellian Sleuth.