 Jimson's father's words echoed inside his head: Dun act as smart as y'are, young'n. If y'lay all yer cards out on th' table at once, it's pretty easy fer yer opponent t'see yer hand. Jimson couldn't remember exactly what it was he'd done to initiate the old man's advice, but it had been something he'd thought himself very smart for, and he'd run to his father eager to brag about it. The younger Pyr had taken those words to heart, and had gotten fairly proficient at playing the game. And he saw the advantage of it, as well -- knowledge was valuable, and it was easier to gain knowledge if people thought you didn't understand them. So when the young wolf-dog relaxed his hackles, Jimson pretended not to notice, though he did indeed take note. “Well, normally I wouldn’t care too much, but—there are dangerous luperci around these parts," the stranger said, his green eyes flitting for a second time to Jimson's bedroll. Ah, were there, now? The dog wondered how he should interpret this statement; most likely, the other male meant that there had been encounters with unfriendly shifters, and he had wanted to make sure that Jimson wasn't one. It could have been intended as a threat, but the tone of voice wasn't right for that, not to mention it wouldn't have made sense with the young male's body language. And Jimson very much doubted that the sentry was concerned about a strange dog's safety. Still, he chose to respond as though the stranger were; playing the game. He chuckled and said, patting his staff, "Thanks fer the warnin', sir, but unless y'all have some weird breed o' giant wolf up here I think I can prolly protect m'self jus' fine." With a scowl, the creamy male inquired as to Jimson's travels. Why was he scowling? the dog wondered. It almost seemed as though he were putting on a show -- he was pretty young, and what with that stature and his tail up like that, perhaps he was doubly interested in communicating that he would truck no funny business, young'n or not. Well, that was fine. Jimson wanted the stranger to be confident that the giant was no threat to him. He allowed his genial grin to fall just a little -- though not completely -- as he didn't want the strange canine to feel that Jimson was mocking him. "Yeah, I been walkin' 'bout six months or so. I's born south a ways." He paused for just a moment. Give information in order to get it. "M'name's Jimson. I'd shake yer hand but y'don't seem to have any right this minute," he said with a wink and a crooked smile. |
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