03-09-2012, 05:35 AM
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He claimed to be not much of a fighter, and Caspa nodded with some surprise and delight. Peaceable wolves were thin on the ground, she knew. Even herself, a student of peace, felt that occasional acts of physical aggression were necessary in order to keep the unsavoury elements of the world at bay and to protect the weak. She was however never quite far enough from the ranks of the weak herself to do too much in this area. But she had never encountered deliberate non-violence. She admired him and knew she would be thinking much more upon this later. "Your animal has weapons enough for you both, I am sure. Those hooves are as large as most canine's heads and twice as hard, I am guessing," she observed. Crimson Dreams had been one of their allies and the pack most injured by the Aniwayan tyrant, so Caspa was surprised to hear Alder had links there as well as his trading and friendship with the Western wolves. To her he came across as a forgiving and accepting type, and she knew he was right, now that the poison had been sucked from Aniwayas wounds, which hadn't been there before the arrival of the Ahote, there was no reason for anybody to bear a grudge. How his heart must have ached during the fight, though, she conjectured, for his friends on both sides. But that was history now and she didn't intend to go dragging it up. Instead she ducked below the fence once more and took a few careful steps towards Hawthorn, hearing a mew from the cat behind her she half imagined as a warning call. After her small speech on the horse's ferocious appearance, Caspa felt herself suddenly determined to conquer her fear. And where better to start than this gentle-looking animal. Her hair prickled alarmingly as she came nearer, before stopping just beside Alder and facing the horse. She lowered her leather hood, and gave him a steady smile which belied her screaming instincts to move away from the gigantic and healthy herbivore. "May I?" She wasn't sure what she was asking - to go closer, to touch the horse's soft-looking nose and try to forget those huge teeth and hooves? She knew she was stalling, and cursed her cowardice. Her breathing became even and forcefully slow. She wished to suppress her sense of danger: master even that final instinct.[/html]