It was the warrior’s turn to listen then, though the relax state of her countenance might have portrayed something different. Her eyes ventured downward, fixed upon the moistened soil then drifted again the tawny furs of the prey growing cold. A stout ear would twitch occasionally as she absorbed the words of the young Alpha, yet no expression followed. Only a passive acceptance for what was spoken.
She would suggest they avoid each other rather than encourage more positive co-existence with the other. As if hiding away in one’s own territory was the absolute means to limit contact with another. Remain on their own lands and less in the neutral. Then what would become of the Creek with the prey began to dwindle? What of the Vale, for that matter?
“This information is not useful to me…” when her maw parted at last, it was with bit a whisper as she stepped forward toward the still carcass. “…but to others, yes.” Gingerly, she scooped the weasel nearer to her paws before lowering her muzzle to brush through its fur. The flower accompanying it, she left alone. “None of us intend for war,” she continued softly, distantly as if preparing to tread down a different path of thought. “That, I will relay to my brethren.” Though if the intrusion of the Creek’s pale wolf was of any example, there were bound to be those that did not share the same intentions. Swiftly, she took the offering by the head then raised her dulling eyes to the muzzle of the young wolf. “Be well, then,” she dipped her muzzle was she prepared to leave. |