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you are left, and so am I
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She was polite. Jefferson could feel the weight of her eyes taking in his face, his scars, his demeanor; the white wolfess was kind about it, never allowing her gaze to dwindle anywhere too long. Subtly he appreciated it, as there was no pride in the scars he bore nor a delight in the loss of an eye or full use of a leg. Children loved to stare, that was no surprise -- to behold a monster with their own eyes was worth gaping at. Jefferson couldn't blame them... he just wished he wasn't worth staring at at all.
"Geneva, then," he said, shifting his weight without taking his eye off her. The wolfess was especially guarded, dodging and hesitant to give her name -- a suspicious thing, considering the war at hand and the fact that she was the guest here, not he. Jefferson frowned, but put that aside for later. "Geneva is my second-in-command. Right now, she's probably resting in the ranch." I think I'm in love with her. "I'm usually the one who stops for visitors."
He tipped his nose to her. "Urma, huh," he muttered. Sorry, never heard of you. "I'm Jefferson. I lead here." He paused, recalling briefly the bad step he and Naniko had began on. She'd lead Crimson Dreams for a while, right? Perhaps Urma knew more about her than he did. "You're fond of Naniko? She just had pups."
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