Sun Mote Copse Take Yourself Home part.II

She was pacified knowing that Cenric would accept the fact that as wolves, the Firebirds would consider any and all herbivores to be prey, including an animal which these Kingslenders considered to be a deity. She wondered what the other king might have thought, if Celnes would have been so quick to forgive another pack for hunting down their deity. Spitefully, Niamh hoped that the King Celnes would one day pass by to see the Firebirds fell a mighty elk- simply to prove the fact that they were mortal, edible, and delicious...Not a deity at all. At least, not in her eyes. And while she asked that they respect the Firebirds practices of hunting elk, she wasn't exactly willing to extend them much respect for their religion in turn. Pitiful and petty she was, and without a hint of remorse. 

"One of your comrades- sour looking fellow, brown fur....Like most of you..." Was that a question? It might've been. "Also, red eyes....Like most of you," Now she definitely intended to hint she'd noticed a trend in their appearances, without directly addressing it. She offered those details both to identify Calhoun, who she did not know by name, and to offer a partial explanation for having called the Déorwines inbred. "...Said something about us as being a 'kind.' 'One of your kind,' was what he said." She said, in an uncharacteristic bout of actually repeating, verbatim, something she'd been told without warping it to suit her narrative. "And in a fairly...judgemental way. Something in the way your packmates- all of them- looked at us," She said, looking down at her perfect, beautiful son for a moment. Somehow, they'd looked at him and they'd seen flaws. They'd looked at her and had seen flaws- and she was "I may not be perfect- but my son is, and I'll be damned if I let anyone look at him that way again. We're all wolves, afterall. But what did he mean by 'your kind'?" She asked, narrowing her gaze at him, determined to pinch some sort of answer out of him.