[p] so sharpen your teeth or lay flat

Ithiel de le Poer · 03-15-2012, 06:23 AM

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Ithiel is by Kitty!

The dusky coyote looked at her with shock, his head still cocked to one side. Now, however, his jaw was hanging slightly ajar, and there was a look of earnest contemplation across his face. Though he liked his cousin well enough, her propensity to engage him in such questions was irritable, at best. He had come here to help her achieve better fighting skill and therefore better the defenses of the entire clan. A Praetorian unaccustomed to fighting and the ways of war was no use at all, and Ithiel wished to impart his own knowledge on Myrika. She insisted upon prodding him with hypotheticals, however, and the man now looked irritated. Will you tell me what this has to do with anything? I'm mostly worried about what it has to do with training you, he admonished.

Myrika's amusement deepened, contrary to the dusty coyote's expectations. Well? he demanded, crossing both arms over his chest. What does it have to do with training you? he asked, ears laid flat with annoyance. The ridge of his hair between them stuck up wildly, having lost some of its straightness with their fighting. This cousin began to laugh, and Ithiel stood angrily. If this is what you want to do, keep at it. he said, turning and making to walk away from her. To hell with her, then, he thought, but he paused as she called his name and asked him to come back. Turning around, the man regarded her with a flat expression, his reddish eyes searching over her a moment. Finally, he returned, settling back down to the snow with a grunt.

I'm trying to train you, too, you know, she said, her voice soft and free of laughter now. Up here, she said, tapping her skull. Ithiel snorted, but before he could speak, she cut him off. You never answered -- what would you do if your leader told you to kill women and children? she repeated, rephrasing the question and cocking a brow at him. The dark man sighed heavily and thought about it.

I would not have to obey his command, he said. If he wants it done, he'll do it himself, the man said, grimacing. I would not stain my hands with innocent blood.

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