WC: 434 OOC: wheeeeee
His head slowly nodded as Hati seemed stunned that anyone would shoot down a bird. Niro remembered it as though it were done the day before and had to reassure himself by looking over at Marahute, who was making her way down slowly. Out of his belt he pulled out a large leather glove, made just for his hand and slowly put it on as he answered Hati “Yes with a bow and arrow, and yes, I did try attacking him but his mate stopped me, she fixed her up though... and there were apologies made. I don’t know who would eat the flesh of a predator unless they were starving but... I suppose each wolf has their own preference.” He said. At Hati’s mention of Marahute being free and in danger and the pigeons being caged and safe he shrugged; “The pigeons have a dangerous job as well. The are our messengers for now. Until I can hire some other kind of feathered help.” He smiled.
At the mention of his sister raising birds the thought of the big fat hen chasing her with an egg in her hand came into clear view in his mind and he couldn’t help but give a lough laugh; “Oh goodness no! She thought she could once... I just meant my sister has an affinity to them.” He said, then as the shadow of the bird came, he held out his arm, and Marahute landed. The bird was quite large, as big as his head if not bigger, and her wing span was outrageous. “And this is Marahute! Marahute this is Hati.” Niro said, the bird moved her head this way and that to get a clear picture of the girl, ruffled her feathers in content and sat still, making Niros arm feel her pressure more. “As for falconry being in my family, well Jiva knows how, though my other daughters have never shown any signs of liking it, Maggie does have a bird of her own. Tasha and Heiro do seem to have an interest, if not small, but never as big of one as I had when I was their age. My father was never happy when I spoke of having a bird, always told me ‘We are wolves and should act like it’ so I don't think it really runs in the family, now hunting... that is in our blood.” The memory hurt a little but he gave a sad smile. He understood his father, but felt he wasn’t always right. He would be proud his grandson, Jiva, was taking his life the way he wanted it.
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