Caprica, too, appreciated beauty, but her idea of such wasn't exactly aesthetic. She loved things not for their surface or shape, but for what they represented, what they meant. Every item, every animal and every wolf had a story and when she looked at them, she knew what she was seeing was only a shadow of the whole. She hoarded items because she liked to learn them inside out, and imprint herself upon them - burning scented herbs to make everything in her dim quarters fragrant in her own particular way, adding small modifications and finishing touches, like the deer skull hanging over her door, the prongs of his spreading antlers bedecked with her homemade jewellery and other works in progress, carvings littering his face and horns. She could never leave anything alone, nothing was ever finished and if it ever got to the point she felt she could do no more to something, she was as likely as not to take it apart and start again. She admired Shandom Qi'Vaex because his dignity spoke of experience, his solemnity and scars of past troubles that he had overcome, his powerful physique a testament to days of action and deeds of grand proportion. Muscles and speed like that were not developed overnight. Yes, hers was a peculiar form of affection, and quite possibly a more classically feminine one than the supposedly masculine obsession with someone's looks and physical attributes. She was capable of this, too, of course, but such a lust was highly unlikely to grow into an emotion resembling love, for Caprica. Far be it from her to take the traditional road, though. She let the male come forward, so they began their repast at almost the same moment. The food was quite unlike what she was used to, one of her fire-charred recipes which grew more elaborate by the month as she learned techniques and began to gain the understanding to improvise. This food was warm, but it was due to the recent death of the doe and not an unnatural flame. It was savage and violent in flavour, much like the hunt had been. She adored it. Her face, chest, even her forelegs and shoulders were now drenched in the blood, a stain quite shocking in its red intensity. It seemed Caprica could do nothing by halves, wallowing in the blessed brutality of the slaughter. Shandom spoke, his manner equally primal, but his words still flowing and formal between bites. She chomped on herself as she spoke, making a rather unsuccessful attempt at the same. "Don't thank me - s'nothin'! Fanks to yourself for the lesson, Mister Qi'Vaex," she answered, finding herself picking up on a similar formality. He kept calling her Miss - which sounded a little like a diminutive to Caprica, for some reason, perhaps she would have preferred Ma'am, despite her young years and worldly inexperience - but she supposed it was his way of showing respect, so she was appreciative enough. She gave a huge swallow, her stomach already weighted heavily. Now even Caprica was having trouble fitting more in, so she began chewing on a piece of skin, loth to stop enjoying the flavour of their kill - spiced with the sweet flavour of success. She felt suddenly tired, though, and lowered herself to the snowy bloodstained ground, head falling to her paws. Suddenly it seemed almost a question of whether she would even make it home to Anathema before she succumbed to the need to sleep off her full stomach. Green eyes turned to Shandom, wondering what his next move would be.
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