Luneshale Pass Only angels fall

he follows behind her as she tracks, her nose game on point.

before long they are in the cat's proximity. her slender form casting a long shadow below them.

soto inches close to safiya, meeting the verdant green of her gaze. safiya, he whispers in his heavily accented way, urging her close.

she was a warrior, and she was brave. but brave warriors often died, and soto could not live with losing her.

if he could teach her nothing else, he wished to teach her the value in discretion. the two of them could confront this cat, get hurt, and lose everything.

or...

he struggles to find the words. when threat es aqui, a handwave as he plucked from his library of borrowed phrases and words: sometimes, es better to... moverse suavemente y disuadir. he held her gaze a long moment, wondering if she would understand.

not every conflict was a battle. sometimes, to demoralize your enemy, you had to show him how clever you were -- not how brave you were.

come. he rose suddenly, noisily, knowing it would draw the attention of the cat. he throws back his head and howls -- a low and sonorous boom that carries downhill like a landslide. and then he scrapes the ground with his feet, leaving scentmarkers every three yards. wolf country, this communicates loud and clear.

and he notices the shadow downhill has moved on.