Fox's Glade gawad

“Then why ask it at all?”
 
Rohan’s tone did not seem to suggest he was mocking her but asking only to answer the query. The stag did not seem stirred by her initial statement. He did not fathom why he should be inspired to ask her what his kind tasted like. The stag had seen more than enough of their blood spilt than he should ever need to. It did not seem fitting that he should inquire to the huntress about her eating habits or the flavors of her many kills.
 
“I do not know what I could ask of you that I do not already know, huntress,” the prince addressed her question with a frown and a surprised flutter of his tail. “You beasts are barbaric. Pray tell me this, what good does it do for you to talk to me? What knowledge have you earned from our engagement?” the stag had not wanted to discuss the wolf’s life so much as why it had decided to approach him and share words.
 
The beast had been crass during their conversation and she had not painted a kind picture of herself or her kind, but Rohan did not believe she would understand this.