Stone Circle Consolation Prize

Greyback tensed, and Merrit stiffened. He knew what hostility looked like, and tension was written all over the Patriarch now. Merrit knew he had done nothing to put himself in a favourable position with the man, so he drew a step away when the Patriarch turned, and held his ground and composure. He could fight if need be - but something shifted in old Greyback's face, and what energy sparked from the elder's advance gave way to confusion, a pause, and an advance of his own, until Greyback finally quipped back with a thread the good humour that had always been characteristic of the older man - a characteristic Merrit reminded himself was true, and worthy of trust.

Yet he still expected something different. Something cutting, and harsh. Greyback's pleasant wit caught Merrit off guard, and he found himself searching for some clever retort he just couldn't seem to find. The Raven had never shared more than a few curt words with the elder, and he didn't know how to change that now. So to cover the silence he simply blinked, and resisted the self-conditioned impulse to shift away when Greyback stepped closer still. He again held his ground, and gave great efforts to procure some air of ease.

"I suppose any long absence will have that effect. And that would also explain why you looked ready to fight me when you first saw me." But his mind turned as he spoke, and settled on a most curious thought. He wondered if the hostility pressed even closer to the heart - if maybe there was a different reason for Greyback to stand on guard. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "Did you think I was him?" He wasn't afraid of the answer, but a soft frown betrayed the question if he really wanted to know.