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Sirius Revlis · 11-28-2011, 03:22 AM

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She was difficult to read, this foreign nymph, this strangely alluring figure from some land he knew nothing about. Unlike many of his uncivilized comrades, Sirius knew more than to be fooled by a wolfish instinct that heralded prejudice - This land had once been ruled by their ignorance, their mistrusts of breeds and pelts dissimilar to their own. Diversity was something the King of Thorns welcomed into his domain, for he was a well-traveled sinner, and had feasted with hungry gaze on the likes of many a rare dog or hybrid.

Thus her appearance, although starkly unique to any that the man's acidic gaze had witnessed prior, did little more than draw his curiosity closer - The shadow of a hawk that hovers, uncertain and yet driven by some deep instinct to inspect, over the crouched and still form of a hare.

Her words sought humbleness, but they held within them defiance, of a sort. One dark brow rose, slightly curtained by the dark locks of unruly hair that fell over his brooding features. It seemed the traveler would not join him in verbal lust, in the combating of silver tongue against sharp wit. Banter was something he took great pleasure in, this monarch of the mind and not the brawn. But he was far too intrigued to fell the pang of disappointment that she would not be pushed to rise to the challenge his flattery provided.

There was something even more delightful, even more ravenously appealing to the Thistle King, to be found in this exotic creature's apparent straightforwardness. While she spoke with the flourish of a scholar familiar with language (perhaps bilingual, as he himself was? The prospect served to delight) her words were not tainted by the excessive charm of a liar, as his own were. Well used to the power of his voice and it's ability to manipulate, Sirius found himself amused at the prospect that her own educated tones, so thinly cloaking her apparent dismay at his appearance, could similarly please him.

However, his condescending attention was quickly confronted with surprise as, with quite some formality, the strange woman accepted his offer. There was, of course, an ancient and un-spoken law to the way of the traveler. Travelers were hardy folk, genuine folk; In many cultures, in many lands, it was a blessing to receive a traveler. To share a meal with them if food was present was not only customary, but expected. It boded foul luck to do any less. But those times, those old customs of etiquette, were long eroded. The humans had all but eliminated these mannerisms, and yet, they persisted; Found again here, in the ocean of gold grasses, by the bewildered gaze of a King and the bowed portrait of a stranger.

He grunted, a sound of unsuspected approval, and coyote-esque ears remained tall an stiff a moment longer before his surprise melted back beneath that simmering layer of charm and self-control.

If his nearness made her nervous, she did well not to show it. By the law of civility, though, he did not thrust his presence upon her - Instead Sirius kept a polite space between them, approaching no further than he had. It was to be her decision if she deemed him safe enough to risk a closer encounter. Slender fingers drew the hunting dagger from the strap at his thigh, and the blade glittered for a moment as it was unsheathed like a bizarre, giant tooth. Then, with the precision and speed of one well used so such a task, Sirius made a deft incision in the rabbit, and began the quick and familiar job of skinning it. "So tell me, may it please you," His voice rose above the soft sounds of the knife, as it slid between the layers of fat to neatly remove the wild hare's soft tawny pelt, "What is your name? It would be churlish of me to think of you as no more than a face, now that we are to dine together," Although his gaze remained on the task at hand, his attention was sharply focused on the woman, on every movement she made, every breath she took. The silver mare had dropped her pretty head to the long grasses, cropping hopefully at the more tender shoots, but she remained an obedient distance from her comfortably squatting master.

It occurred to the King, moments after asking, that it might be prudent for him to share similar information. "I am known as Sirius Revlis, the name my mother gave me," It did not occur to him that she might already know that calling, that it might in fact give away his rank within the pack that she already knew him to come from. "I don't suppose you prefer your meals cooked? For I've nothing with which to spark a flame."

Sirius Revlis

Hail the Conqueror Worm

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