08-07-2009, 07:36 PM
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------Anselm was certainly not without his prejudices, but he was intelligent enough to realise when certain sentiments towards others were unfounded. Although his knee-jerk reaction was to despise the woman for wielding a human weapon and pledging loyalty to Dahila, as time wore on he found himself respecting her more and more. She was sharp enough to know when something was amiss; she had an air of capability and confidence that allowed him to consider her a valid threat (even with her disadvantage). There was something genuine and individual about her, too; their packs were on ill terms, yet he knew she'd helped to train his nephew. She also seemed remarkably patient (she was willing to put up with his antics, at least) and--indeed-very down to earth. Anselm tended to swing about more erratically than that: at one point he'd be down in some cynical, distrusting slump and then later he'd feel on top of the world and completely in control. The two opposing forces balanced out and resulted in a rather stable, consistent creature, but Cwmfen seemed to just hold rock steady right in the middle.
------For whatever reason, knowing his raven friend that hailed from the south earned her instant bonus points, as well. His features remained neutral, as always, though his tone had warmed just a couple of degrees when he spoke next. "That's her. She's hanging in there... unfortunate circumstances have landed her at the helm of Crimson Dreams, but she's a strong woman," he replied smoothly, one foot lifting as he scratched at an itch behind his ear. If the woad-marked lady wanted to know more, she could ask Savina herself. Anselm wasn't about to play messenger for the sake of anyone save Gabriel.
------"Cwmfen," he repeated, this time much smoother than the last. Here he dipped his head slightly in thanks for her taking the time to clarify (Anselm personally hated having to repeat himself, and if he got asked about his own name as much as she might, he'd probably be ready to smack people by the end of it). "I can't say I've heard of it. I take it that's overseas, then." He'd seen enough maps to know that individual territories and cultures overseas were numerous, unlike on their continent, which had basically Canada, Mexico, and the former States.
------"And I guess, though I think my name has more to do with it." We take care of our own since nobody else will. Even though he was about a quarter coyote, he doubted he could have gained acceptance into Inferni's ranks without being a de le Poer for the very reason she was confounded by his affiliation: he really did look like a wolf.
------As for his eyes, he paused a moment, considering her words. "Oh," he replied at length, obviously not very satisfied. He had a hazy understanding of genetics; it made sense when kids had traits that took after their parents. Every so often, though, a random new feature was generated; something locked deep within their DNA came to the surface. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?" he inquired lightly, his bones cracking slightly as he completed his shift to a pure quadruped from his secui form. His build grew lighter and his mane became less wild, though otherwise he looked much the same. He just wanted to be clear that, for whatever reason, taking a gander at her eyes was more important than any idea of attack--surely she wouldn't feel threatened by him now. It was also an act of trust on his part, though whether she'd see this herself or not was beyond his control. Anselm rarely took this form away from the safety of home.
------Anselm was certainly not without his prejudices, but he was intelligent enough to realise when certain sentiments towards others were unfounded. Although his knee-jerk reaction was to despise the woman for wielding a human weapon and pledging loyalty to Dahila, as time wore on he found himself respecting her more and more. She was sharp enough to know when something was amiss; she had an air of capability and confidence that allowed him to consider her a valid threat (even with her disadvantage). There was something genuine and individual about her, too; their packs were on ill terms, yet he knew she'd helped to train his nephew. She also seemed remarkably patient (she was willing to put up with his antics, at least) and--indeed-very down to earth. Anselm tended to swing about more erratically than that: at one point he'd be down in some cynical, distrusting slump and then later he'd feel on top of the world and completely in control. The two opposing forces balanced out and resulted in a rather stable, consistent creature, but Cwmfen seemed to just hold rock steady right in the middle.
------For whatever reason, knowing his raven friend that hailed from the south earned her instant bonus points, as well. His features remained neutral, as always, though his tone had warmed just a couple of degrees when he spoke next. "That's her. She's hanging in there... unfortunate circumstances have landed her at the helm of Crimson Dreams, but she's a strong woman," he replied smoothly, one foot lifting as he scratched at an itch behind his ear. If the woad-marked lady wanted to know more, she could ask Savina herself. Anselm wasn't about to play messenger for the sake of anyone save Gabriel.
------"Cwmfen," he repeated, this time much smoother than the last. Here he dipped his head slightly in thanks for her taking the time to clarify (Anselm personally hated having to repeat himself, and if he got asked about his own name as much as she might, he'd probably be ready to smack people by the end of it). "I can't say I've heard of it. I take it that's overseas, then." He'd seen enough maps to know that individual territories and cultures overseas were numerous, unlike on their continent, which had basically Canada, Mexico, and the former States.
------"And I guess, though I think my name has more to do with it." We take care of our own since nobody else will. Even though he was about a quarter coyote, he doubted he could have gained acceptance into Inferni's ranks without being a de le Poer for the very reason she was confounded by his affiliation: he really did look like a wolf.
------As for his eyes, he paused a moment, considering her words. "Oh," he replied at length, obviously not very satisfied. He had a hazy understanding of genetics; it made sense when kids had traits that took after their parents. Every so often, though, a random new feature was generated; something locked deep within their DNA came to the surface. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?" he inquired lightly, his bones cracking slightly as he completed his shift to a pure quadruped from his secui form. His build grew lighter and his mane became less wild, though otherwise he looked much the same. He just wanted to be clear that, for whatever reason, taking a gander at her eyes was more important than any idea of attack--surely she wouldn't feel threatened by him now. It was also an act of trust on his part, though whether she'd see this herself or not was beyond his control. Anselm rarely took this form away from the safety of home.