Thread: The Spoils of war (Dogged and Vmpdevil101)

Rathe was pretty good at analyzing people and he could judge their character best by how they reacted to animals and servants. If they were cruel or cold to what was considered lesser creatures, then they were self-centered with no room for true affection. He sighed deeply as yet another one failed the subtle testing of interaction. He'd seen many reactions to his large pair of Deerhounds, predominantly among them was fear. His grandmother had gifted him with the pups just before she died and they were his only soft, weak spot of compassion that he allowed himself. She'd taught him that humans will act towards dogs the way they think of people when they think they're unobserved. Dogs help to reveal a person's true nature behind the masks we wear. Rathe had taken her message to heart and found her advice solid. He'd seen that animal cruelty and madness were a undeniable link. There was something cold in her gaze that made Rathe stare at her hard for a very long moment. He searched her face for any signs of femininity or an emotion other than rebelliousness and anger he found nothing else. On instinct, he signaled the large dogs away from her and back to his side as rapidly as possible. He knew the dogs weighed more than she did and would easily kill her on command. He would nae have them savaging her if she struck out at them. To be honest, he'd expected anger, but for anger to be the masking of rightful fear at having an unfair and uncertain future thrust upon yourself. Instead there was a mask of ugly crudities defiling the flowing Gaelic language and he was sorely pissed at being saddled with what acted like a guttersnipe instead of a grown lass. She had actually smirked as she bespoke language that was common only among the very raunchiest of his soldiers. It was like hearing a butterfly fart the national anthem, 'Flower of Scotland.' 'Fuck off asshole' is the best you can manage in the ancient and lovely Gaelic? Well even the most beautiful of girls are ugly when they use a foul tongue to speak the most graceful of languages. Rathe snorted in disgust at her behavior and looked both furious and resigned at the same time. 'How could I do that again?' He thought to himself. 'Why is it that the one that seems the loveliest and most attractive in looks is the opposite in nature?' He'd get caught up in a woman's beautiful face and irresistible body, but the moment she spoke, the impression was slaughtered like a lamb at spring solstice. In his mind, there was nothing wrong with a woman shouting a few swears to show her spirit. Hell, he admired a strong spirited woman. But a crude, rebellious female with not an ounce of any feeling other than defiance was just not womanly to him. His father demanded he had only a week to marry someone of the Mcfay clan and he had indeed called dibs on this one. Her blue black hair was as glossy as a raven's wing and her alabaster skin was like the finest, most delicate of porcelain complexions. She was a fair height for a lass, and he preferred the taller ones. Two last provoking thoughts entered his mind and refused to leave. 'Does she think that she would nae be taken seriously if she stopped acting like a man? Was this only a fear display or does she always act and talk like this?' What is your name and dunna answer in the Gaelic with more curses. You shame your clan name with this wanton behavior. None of us really have a choice in this fate so suck it up McFay. There's a difference between guttersnipe and spirit and ye have crossed it long ago. Rathe's voice was so low pitched in anger that it was nearly a growl and he frowned down at her so hard, his eyebrows nearly met. NOTE her previous post is edited from her original line of kicking dogs in the face Last edited Nov 29, 2018