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The other man also moved to meet him, and Frodo grinned at the friendliness, rocking back on his heels in a relaxed, triumphant way. Every single person he had met since coming back home so far, every single person had been friendly, and he'd made friends with them. Except for those luperci that had attacked him in Inferni, of course...but they didn't count! Frodo listened to the introduction with a perky little expression on his deluded lips, and danced a little jig on the spot for a while before calming himself down, smoothing his rapidly bouncing curls that seemed to want to fly away with the wind, and standing upright and still. Anatole Aston. he mused to himself quietly, his features turning almost devishly serious, handsome, and wise for a second or two before he reverted back to his typical lop-sided grin.
Frodo shook his head at the next statement. Yer probably wrong, that you are. Horses are wee herd animals, a lot like the quarry you or I hunt, 'cept they 'ave the hearts of luperci. That's all ye need to know, pickpocket. one didn't study horses for years and declare they knew everything about them. Or at least, people did, but they were wrong and stupid in Frodo's mind. To know about horses, you had to understand them, and that was usually pretty easy- you just had to let yourself go, and go against everything your were familiar with. Once you had formed a bond with horses, an understanding, there was no going back. They were a part of your life forever. He looked up then, and an amused smile formed upon his lips. An animal keeper... that was something he had considered, but no, he was a hunter, a slaughterer of animals in a way, though he didn't think of it like that. He thought of hunting as on of the most important jobs in the pack. Everybody had to eat, after all. Nope, but I do like 'em. he met Anatole's gaze steadily. I'm a 'unter, actually. Tsiudu Kanati. Though I'm workin' me way up. What abouts yourself, blacksmith mah-boy? Whatters the trick up yer sleeve?
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