he came from the woods

Ezekiel de le Poer · 05-07-2011, 02:45 PM

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The will to fight and the desire to do so were two very different things. Ezekiel, with his pale coat and wolfish eyes, displayed these in his body. He carried himself as a fighter, even when he did not look for combat. Fleet footed and as wary as a deer he was, though he displayed very little fear. He feared blue eyes. He was wary of many other things, night-creatures and illness included. Yet no trace of this was displayed in his relaxed stance, though a tension remained in his arms and legs.

Hesitation came and went from his pretty companion. She was not afraid to fight, which told him she had never been involved in a real fight. She was eager and bright. He wished desperately that this sort of optimism might one day come to his sister. “Horses fight with their whole body,” he began to explain once she had confirmed her desire to learn. “So will we. You have claws,” the warrior went on, lifting his hands. They were hooked like talons, displaying gold-ivory claws. He might have been an eagle for their color, for the shade of his eyes. “And teeth. With these you would fight like a coyote. Coyotes rush in, and do not fight as wolves. But you’re going to fight like a bird,” Ezekiel said, raising his voice cheerfully.

“You should always try and keep away from bigger animals. A jay will always lose if he is caught by a hawk. You must be fast, and you must be smart. Stay light on your feet. We’re going to start slow, and I’ll correct you as we go.” With three strides he crossed to her, swinging widely for the pretty girl’s face. There were no claws, no teeth, no aggression—this was play, after all.

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