Grouse Thicket An Irishman walks out of the bar

caiaphas did not take apple's judgment of her looks to heart; to wit, caiaphas cared very little about her appearance -- she knew she was mostly pale, she knew she had a black face and red ears, and that her features were impossibly narrow and her eyes cold - but after that, she knew very little -- and frankly, she cared even less.

this wolf, however, seemed in sharp contrast: her eyes exuded a sympathetic nature, and her fur seemed luxuriously soft. for all the advancement of age (age which, caiaphas was not so far behind) she moved with a surprising dexterity, and caiaphas did not think for a moment she would be an easy creature to overtake. 

but... she might be easy to manipulate -- as intelligent as caiaphas supposed apple was (and there was certainly a glitter of cleverness in that crone's gaze), caiaphas knew even wolves of impressive acumen could be bent to her will, provided she found the right leverage. "oh -- i think you will be fine, unless you are harboring his dead brother somewhere." she spoke rather flippantly for a wolf who was still not over kevlyn's death - the reminder of it caused bile to rise in noxious fumes around her throat.