[/html]I approve of Ithiel's dumb manness. ♥
Cassandra's ears swept back and her eyes narrowed in the same moment the stranger startled, reaching for his arrows. As always, she was ready to flee at a moments notice and had already mapped out a mental path of escape. Her finest asset as speed, but while the tall grasses were in her favor, her cloak and her pelt were not. She was sure, also, that the patrolman would know the area far better than she, and she would become disadvanaged if she ran into wetter areas or thicker weeds she had not known about earlier. There was, of course, always the head-on approach. Fleeing outward would make things easier for an attacker with ranged weaponry; fleeing inwards would limit their arrows and would possibly spook their horse. Her cloak was lined with hidden daggers, and if she closed the gap between them efficiently, she would then have a true advantage.
But the stranger's hand dropped, and these thoughts passed. The coywolf was still tense and cautious, but she next wondered whether the young man was another relative. Her own pale red eyes were a result of her condition, but her father's eyes had been a deeper, truer red -- not the same as the patrolman's, but perhaps related.
"I've heard of the wolves' attacks," she said matter-of-factly, then shrugged in response to the question of Inferni. "I don't know." Cassandra took a few steps forward, quietly, and almost instinctively drawn to the horse. "Should I?" It was a loaded question, to be sure.
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