Alpine Lake And then walk until our feet are torn

WC: 810

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There was an accent to the way he spoke his name that reminded Niamh of a wolf she had met once before; and her eyes shone perhaps for a moment with the light of faint recognition. This wolf too- his accent reminded her of another, whose name she could no longer remember, one she had met shortly after she had joined the Redhawks. He was perhaps the first wolf she’d found herself attracted to- but had been too young to realize it. He had spoken to her of the lights that danced in the Northern skies at night, and had called them by a name that had come from another tongue he spoke. She couldn’t be absolutely sure that Rosencrantz’s accent was exactly the same as the Northerner she’d met, but he had entranced her in a way that Rosencrantz now did. There had been such an allure to the quiet confidence the man had had, and the way he spoke about his homelands...Now, she found herself wondering if, perhaps, this man had come from that part of the world as well.

He seemed to look down upon her, then, when he told her that he was slightly less bloodthirsty than those who had once surrounded him. She found herself wondering then, where exactly he had come from- what it had been like for him growing up, and how many others had fallen before him and those he had stood alongside. He was clearly a seasoned warrior, one who had fought several battles- either that, or everything he was saying a bluff and he was simply using his powerful size to back words which were completely fabricated. He did not seem satisfied with her decline, but it didn’t seduce her or anger her. Niamh was calm, just as she had been when she had spoken earlier, even though she had spoken with confidence. She was arrogant, of course, but she had a lot to be proud of, at the same time.

”I am fortunate, then,” She agreed, though not whole-heartedly, as she did believe that if necessary, she could hold her own in a fight against him. She was grateful that he wasn’t some hot-headed male who would fight simply because there was another wolf to fight who claimed to be as strong- if not more strong than them. Clearly, if it came to a game of brute strength, he would win- but Niamh was quick on her feet, and hard to nab- so that had to count for something, surely. She might even fare better in the disgusting weather- there was no telling whose favour it would land in. ”And what’s to protect me? These,” She said, baring her teeth only in show, whilst no malice shone in her honest, honey gaze. Her voice was light and even, and she closed her lips gently, though they remained soft, and curved slightly in the form of a smile. She drew slightly closer to him, her posture softening considerably, and behind her, her golden tail began to sway gently from one ankle to the next. This was a language that Niamh was only beginning to learn how to speak- but it seemed to come to her naturally, as she had finally reached maturity. ”And they don’t need me to lead them. They chose me.” She said, so that he would know that there were other wolves in the pack capable of leading- but she had been especially selected.

Her eyes combed over his frame again, and she drew herself into a seated position. ”But I’m more interested about you,” She admitted. ”You’re...Well, interesting is an understatement,” She supplied as an answer. She wanted him to talk about herself so she might have a better way of gauging who he really was, if he posed a threat, and if he would actually be useful for her pack. ”Where are you from, Rosencrantz?” She asked, hoping that she had pronounced his name correctly. She wanted to steer him away from pointing out her weaknesses, and learn about what it was that made him so strong. How had he trained? How long had he trained? And had every member of his pack been the same way- and if not, what had they done to convince those reluctant to follow orders to submit to the same training? She could only assume he’d come from somewhere that the law was rigid...In order to create wolves as keen and willing to fight as him. While she wasn’t sure such an ethic would ever suit all the wolves of the Redhawks, she also couldn’t help but wonder if having just a little bit of that experience wouldn’t help strengthen those who were actually interested in being a mercenary, as Niamh was.

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