(607) My turn to be sorry! XD ♥ And sorry doubly for a rambly post. ._. First paragraph and second are essentially skippable. c:
Ithiel is by Raze!
The dust-hued coyote had never considered disability before. He was strong of body and there seemed to be no weaknesses with his physique. Certainly, he was not as powerfully built as he might be if he had spent more time with weights training, as he'd been nudged toward in his training days. Ithiel had never liked close combat, however, and he felt his calling was as a scout and archer -- this was in direct contrast to the wishes of his superiors, however, and perhaps it had cost him dearly to have protested them so, even if it had not been directly disobedient. No one had ordered him to become a melee and close quarters specialist, and perhaps they should have -- Ithiel would have had no choice but to obey.
The delight on the woman's face was apparent, and even he understood what it meant. There was a strange feeling within him, one of... enjoyment? Fulfillment? He could not put a name to the feeling, and was discomforted by it after a brief time. Why should he feel anything over a blind wolf? Though she was no danger to him, he need not answer any more of her inquiries. As she spoke on, however, she introduced herself and her pack, and made an offer that surprised him. Both ears pricked forward, and he tilted his head to one side, peering at her with a look of faint curiosity in his eyes.
You are welcome. Ithiel de le Poer, Vigiles of Inferni. His introduction, dry as it was, was more than some offered -- rank and title were less important to some, but Ithiel bore his standing within the Lumen tier proudly. He had walked the scout's path from Praeses to Vigiles, and perhaps he would serve as Caelum, soon or later. The dusky man had no wish to usurp his cousin of her position as Praetorian, and he was quite content to serve under her, but perhaps he might still ascend her seat, someday? Time might only tell. He was sworn to Inferni until Ezekiel saw fit to release him from that duty.
I make my own bows, and my own arrows, he started, gruffly. But I am one coyote, and I have duties other than whittling spare bows and arrows for the rest of Inferni. He knew the trade language, again, thanks to his cousin -- he would not have known what to say had he not followed Myrika to the festival, from tent to tent, in attempt to ensure her safety. He did not have overmuch to offer, himself -- but perhaps his cousin's wares, leather and parchment and simple clothes made of pelts? Myrika's skills made valuable goods, as Ithiel saw it, and perhaps this would be of use to the d'Arte pack.
What would you ask in return? Would your Alpha approve? These were the two most pertinent questions Ithiel thought to ask -- the first was known only thanks to his cousin, and the second was his own. He had no luck with wolves in the past, and it seemed a dirty trick to use a blind woman to lure coyotes to their borders -- and yet, he had no reason to distrust this individual. Her pack, however, might be another matter entirely, and the Infernian wished to make sure there was no bad blood between his group and hers. He knew of none, but the dusky man was not particularly keen on listening to the finer points of politics -- he knew when there was war, and he knew when there was peace. The many shades in between escaped him entirely.
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