It was always useful to learn new things. Salvia embraced the concept of knowledge because it led to strength; wisdom was one of the few things that could command respect as well as physical strength. A fighter who knew how to trick an opponent was a fighter who would survive. She was simple in her concepts of such things and only saw worth in useful information. The mysticism of her mother fell short for the blonde girl, who bowed her head to no gods and no demons.
Though his tone was even, she imagined she sensed some aggression lingering under it. He gave no sign of outright rebellion, but there was a faint stiffness in his voice that suggested such. Good. A thin smile crossed her face, its sharpness the only indication of the faint coyote heritage she held. Often, when she smiled, she looked like her uncle. “You must understand,” she countered, her tone steely. “Odessa is my cousin; she and I spent most of our childhood together. I do not want to see her harmed by any man.” She was much too fragile for that. Salvia’s green eyes burned with peculiar fires as they stared after the dog, black tipped tail flicking once, cat-like, behind her.
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