Moonspear Once More Into the Fray

He could not have claimed to be privy to the hazards of man and their ilk, but he could not have said he was a stranger to them. Once upon a time Dirge too had laid eyes on them and thought better of his curiosity—a wise decision now, it seemed. It wasn’t worth dwelling on, that venture long behind him. So long as they never graced these lands, he would not burden himself with the worry.

At least now she had her confidence, even if he hadn’t anticipated a story of such detail; it told him nothing about the eastern lands he sought and left him wondering. This too was for naught in the intensity of her gaze that held him. Hopeful and certain as it was, it only served to earn her a flicker of contempt that was tempered and keening.

She wanted something, the blatant obvious so many others had.

But he had never offered it, nor offered a more gentile introduction to such.

“Seems man took your manners with them—you didn’t quite answer my question with your story,” he rejoined smoothly. “I can forgive your trespass but I do not tolerate disrespect. How about you give me a reason why I shouldn’t call my kin and chase you off for disturbing our herds?”

Perhaps a more pointed discussion would be the route to take.