Hideaway Strath A Test Of Faith.

At the sight of such a dashing leader, Aya’s ears perk and her bottle-brush tail wags ever so slightly as a smile rushes to her face-- the finer hints of gold amidst the grandmaster’s pelt remind her very much so of her own blonde tufts… Dorus, (much) less pretty but just as pleasant seeming, allowed the yellows of his back teeth to show in a smirk that lay just outside of the girl's peripheral vision. There was a calmness about Kynareth, and it brought the tattered male a great rush of relief; he hadn’t sent a green-horned lackey to meet them. Good.

“Here we are again." The bubbling of his voice was the wetness in his throat, but he dare not spit, not when he was supposed to be 'better'. "When ya' livin’ froom moon cycle to moon cycle, there ain’t much point in making false promises, is there?” 

Trickery was for the weak, for the limping girl beside him, for the many more that would fall at his teeth; but Kyn demanded more respect than that. It wasn’t often you met another killer so eager to cause pain and suffering for the sake of words and tests and philosophy, after all. 

Aya fell into a clumsy bow before Kynareth, her shattered foreleg and its thread-bare ankle coming to rest upon the ground in a splayed and obtuse angle. 

“Thank you, sir Kynareth Deagon! It’s… it’s an honor to be in the presence of such a strong and noble wolf!” She chattered with excitement thick in her tones, the scarcest paintings of a blush against her cheeks as the female failed to meet his eyes. “Please, bring your Saints…!”

“Yes… let the healing begin.”

It was at this pivotal moment that Dorus gave a mock bow, if only to look the part, as he backed himself off slowly towards the brush behind them… where the bushes lay low the gap they had entered from was now covered by the shadow of a wolf, moonlight eyes round in the dark, and what lay ahead? The Saint’s and only the Saints.

It was time for the ‘Test of Faith’.