We Were Brave like Soldiers

[Skoll]

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The yellow wolf cocked an eyebrow at the telepath, looking past him at the expanses of Bleeding Souls, contemplating what he'd said. Finding someone perfect for anyone else wasn't the kind of occurence he expected to see, though he understood that it was just a turn of phrase. Still, there weren't all that many women in Bleeding Souls, many of them were already paired off with other males, and most of them would have the common sense not to dig too deeply at the armor of someone who looked like he did. Still, he had gotten along well enough with Luz, with Maria(despite the language barrier), with Bellus and many others. It probably wasn't such a far-off possibility as he thought, but his age was a problem, as was his lone-wolf status. "Perfection is something I wouldn't try to aspire to, myself, but someone who wasn't put off by my life-style would be nice. Life might have gone a little more smoothly if I'd broadened my horizons somewhat, you know? As it is, I met every girl I was ever interested in near a warzone, or by the bodies of fallen foes." He laughed slightly. "Not exactly a romantic setting." Battle really had been his entire life, but there was no need for it to be. Certainly he had to have a marketable skill during his travels, something to get him in to each pack, each pitstop, along his travels. "I'm glad you think so," he said, looking down at his chest as if Phoenix had been referencing his literal heart. "Sometimes I wonder, myself. Just how much can a good heart get away with before it's not good any more? I've killed a lot of people, Phoenix; a lot more than you might think." His face was blank as he said those words, looking back up to Phoenix. He had been a more severe wolf once upon a time, it was true, but he still had an element of brutality by necessity about him. He wondered now, as the years passed by, did all of them really need to be killed? A lot of harm had come of Imlan's death, and not all to people who deserved it. Still, he had lived as best as he could. He had lost the guidance of his father at an early age, and only found one other rolemodel after that. He'd been making his own decisions for a long time now, and for good or ill, they had transpired as they would. He had gained wisdom from his years, but the price had been high. "It may be that I'm just in the wrong part of the world. People here seem so much...softer, if you catch my meaning. They won't even defend themselves from creatures half their size, and yet they still live, at uneasy truce with a group that--by all rights--should be wary of its neighbors, not picking them off and looking for territorial expansions. I probably shouldn't expect someone from a culture like this one to understand someone like me. Maybe it's just my belief that a wolf should never be a prey animal." He sighed, wondering how on earth a situation like Bleeding Souls' could have ever actually come into being. ~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.

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