...And my axe!
Jackal
10-12-2023, 10:33 PM
The boy sighed as she requested his assistance with herbs, and she cast him a snaggly little smile. Her tail thumped, twice. "Think of the herbs as guarding your throat against the future's teeth." He's a defensive fellow, Astraios, so Bylgja tries to parlay her thought in a way that he may take to a bit quicker -- or at least find less sigh-inducing. "It is better to learn now, before you need them." Because he will. Of course he will. They are a pack of fighters, warriors, hunters. The boy will need them when he is freed. And he will be freed. Bylgja will do her best to see to it. She slid the metal across to him, though. Her eyes glittered. Delight. It was unashamed. Unrepentant. The thought of the axe made her chest swell, full, bursting. Joy rippled up her spine, down to her feet. Her tail flicked. Wagged. "There." It is all she says. It is all she needs to say. Bylgja does not move to oversee him; she trusts that he can oversee himself. There is, already, a sign of the freedom he will have while keeping her company. "Ah? Frivolous?" Bylgja cocked her head to one side. Curious. Not... mad. Just... curious. "I am a weapon. We are all weapons. We made of bone and strength and muscle! We decorate our blades. My home, we decorated ourselves. These on my forehead: they say that I help defend my home against a great threat. On my side-- this red wolf-- is when I get my first weapon. I was a pup when I got that one." She didn't sound stern, or mad, just... well. Frankly, she sounded enthusiastic. "We are living. Why should we not paint ourselves?" It is not... a challenge. It is a hypothetical. Bylgja does not appear at all upset by his lack of tact. |
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