Duck Lake ; i guess i'm not like you

Oath inclined her head slightly, molten eyes slitting as 'shameful' spilled out of his mouth. Her hackles raised as she bit back the retort roiling under her skin, demanding to know exactly what was so 'shameful' about it all. But, as usual, a quick look from Goose was all it took to soothe her frayed, damaged edges. Oath was entirely mallaeble and compliant in the others paws. Whipped some might say. Sometimes, Oath let herself hate for it; Goose was her achilles heel, and her heart. Sometimes the smaller wasn't sure there'd ever be room for anyone else in there, with it being so goddamn full and all. The russet felt herself sink down, head on her paws, as she stared up at the golden male through a curtain of thick lashes. Maybe he'd noticed, maybe he hadn't. It bothered her none. Oath felt no shame when it came to her reactions; the negative ones were an everyday occurance and the huntress was pretty damned sure some of these wolves were put on this planet simply to piss her off. She wasn't yet sure if this male was one of those or not. Could be.

The femme rolled her shoulders again, claws clicking together in a habitual, thoughtful manner. "Easthollow," She rumbled, searching his face for a reaction. "Parented by Greyback and Valette." Poor Benedict wouldn't get the joke so she tried not to laugh and failed miserably. It came out as a quiet wheeze before she wiped her paw over her eyes, unable to keep the amusement from her face. The whole concept of this - of everything she and Goose had been through so far - was insane. Their whole life had been a wild fucking ride and it was a sheer miracle neither of them had died. And now they were here. Sitting at a fucking gorgeous lake, bellies mostly full, chatting up some random foreign dude like they'd never experienced a hard day in their entire lives. Had the russet been unable to meet it with humor, she would have surely broken - though, now, the femme might be on the verge of a different kind of snap.

After a few moments of fighting with her own reaction, she pulled her pawpads over her nose and looked up at him once more - squinting into the light. "What exactly does 'peaceful' mean around these parts?" It was a very plainly spoken question, as if random philosophical questions were part of normal 'hi we just met' conversations. "Does it mean they're quiet and keep their heads down to avoid confrontation? Or is it because they're lacking spine and shivering in their pelts everytime they hear a howl? Maybe they're confident, comfortable in their abilities and simply being charitable? Biding their time, waiting for the oppurtune moment to strike, even? There are so many ways 'peaceful' can be taken."

Oaths expression remained the same; bored and amused. "What does the term mean to you?"

G O S H D A N G
I am SO sorry this took so long - I work overnights and this past weekend murdered me. Rip Raven. Rip this post. Rip all around.