Moonspear show them you are made of oak and iron. then gouge the sight from their eyes
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
816 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
Master Warrior
Ecologist
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#4
The boy needed to man up. It was simple. The fact he had given pause so swiftly was not only a reflection of himself, but of those that came before him - schooled him. If he shrank away from danger and bloodshed in the heat of the moment then what was the point? But it had not been the blood that worried him. It was not a lack of safety, there had been many teeth between the lot of them. He wasn't sure, and that's one of the factors. Hydra spoke and he listened, as always the stoic, knowing he should not take her words too personally. She is merely trying to educate the boys and make them in to assets for the pack. Something more than the idle princelings they had become.

What caused him to pause was something different. Revui knew of Llewellyn as a warrior, as a teacher, and as a formidable opponent. Even if he had a very limited grasp of what formidable meant via his foray in to the warrior's domain, Llewellyn was someone he respected. If someone like that could be felled by the likes of these Blackfeather wolves, then what sort of warriors were they facing? Did he stand a chance at all? Would he not fall too, and more quickly because of his inexperience? Revui was not accustomed to doubt or anxiety; his family knew him as a blunt instrument but he would bludgeon his way through any obstacle that came his way. This time, seeing Llewellyn weakened like that, brought to mind many other things.

Charon's recent adventure leading to a ruined face, for one; his missing sibling for another; the violence and the ecstacy he shared with Arcturus when they felled the wolverine together, and the doe — he was abuzz with many things, and being a creature not prone to words made things seem too intense, at least for now.

Are you prepared? Hydra had asked. The boy took a deep breath, drawing it slowly through his nose. He could still smell Llewellyn's blood, or thought he did — a mirage of manifested nerves. But he nods, unable to meet Hydra's gaze as he agrees. Yes, he thinks, he is prepared. But he is also frightened and does not wish to admit it.