Dance with the devil

Alaric was expecting some sort of groveling. Some sort of pain to flash in Atreyu's metallic eyes at his words but saw nothing but strength. A strength he admired. A small smile crept on his black maws, a approving one. She didn't let his words break her, that was good. Maul listened as Atreyu apologized to him, letting out an appreciative bark and licking of his lips before he sat down on his hind. Alaric's ears flickered forward at Atreyu's next string of words. She wanted him to teach her what he knew. Conflict arose in the white male as he struggled between his distrust of others and a sense of...purpose. Purpose. This would give him an opportunity to do something other than hate the world and be alone with his hounds. Alaric's hellfire gaze focused on Atreyu. He took her in for a moment before clearing his throat. "If you want me to teach you, I will." He told her with a quiet nod of his head. "But you must be ready to step into your power when the time comes." He told her. Some never knew the extent of their power. Some never sought their own power. Some wolves were kept in a perpetual cycle of being a victim. Alaric was once such a wolf. Who cried and begged for others to save him. It wasn't until he saved himself did he find out just how powerful he really was. He didn't see a victim in Atreyu, despite what she'd been through. A tingle of respect crept through the thorns around his soul, warming him for a brief moment. He had some sort of respect for her now.