Heath nodded, his mouth full of meat that he would never feel like he could devour fast enough. Just as any animal he knew that this might be the last meal he would eat for some time. Perhaps it was true, and it likely was not. But, one never knew and taking his fill was only a means of survival whether he looked like a hording beast of not. With the mouthful passed he answered in length,
“We accept all kinds, anyone really.” They didn’t care, as long as they knew how to behave and even that was negotiable. He had met a few, and had been a little wild himself at one time, that could use a good whipping to set them strait.
“Our leader is a dog, as are his two right hands.” Of course his Ruri was nothing that could be associated negatively with a dog, it was only Jac, the King, that he felt any bitterness towards. And of course Heath like Vigilante. Both sub-leaders were seen to Heath as the morals the Jac had lost right along with his arm; purity and honor.
They continued to fill their stomachs, and Heath looked up as she spoke to answer him. To carry such a thing was a fairly new concept for the Marshal, and only knew a few that wore a weapon. With the ignorance that Heath possessed came fear, and Heath hated to fear anything. The Knight of their pack did, but Heath trusted Haven’s knowledge of its workings. She told of the many that she owned, and Heath came to the assumption that her entire tribe was packing some sort of weaponry. He had not yet decided if her tribe was one of peace or not, it was simply too early in his understanding. At the last explanation the male looked on with a slight bout of confusion.
“What will you catch with twirling wood?” he smiled at the image that played in his head, though had no desire to mock the female.
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