09-21-2018, 07:18 AM
Though she has been toughened by a myriad of creatures whose names did not match their natures, Lepis is still appropriately wary upon meeting the unfamiliar sinner. For all her posturing, the cream and navy mare is well aware of her shortcomings. She knows she would be no match to this hulking beast that prowls toward her, at least not if it came to a physical fight. Best to prevent a fight then, or at least ensure it is not decided solely by brawn.
Though Arthas had described the hellhound to her, there is nothing quite like seeing him in person. He is like nothing Lepis has ever seen, though the closest are the rabid jackels that had lurked the hills during her yearling summer. Uncle Castile had dispatched them with relative ease once they'd been spotted, but she knew the real danger was when they stalked closer, unseen. Sinner is probably excels at such things, judging by the quiet footsteps of his massive body.
Compared to him, Lepis feels all the smaller. That doesn't show, not for a moment; she has squashed the thought with her steely control before it had even fully formed. The winged mare is every wary in Sylva, and she refuses to let her guard drop.
"Arthas told me he'd made a wolf our Champion." She says by way of introduction, tilting her head to better look him over with blue-grey eyes that are completely void of fear. "But you don't look like any wolf I've ever seen." She has seen very few, truly, but there are enough scars across her coat that having a few come from wolves is not too much of a stretch.
"I'm Lepis, by the way." While the Champion had been described to her, she is not entirely certain that Arthas had spoken of her to the residents of his new kingdom. She finds herself hoping that he had, which is unexpected, but she still looks for a flash of what might be recognition in Sinner's glowing eyes. They are hard to read, but Lepis has studied body language all her life. She can only hope that this hound shares at least something with the equines she knows so well.
Though Arthas had described the hellhound to her, there is nothing quite like seeing him in person. He is like nothing Lepis has ever seen, though the closest are the rabid jackels that had lurked the hills during her yearling summer. Uncle Castile had dispatched them with relative ease once they'd been spotted, but she knew the real danger was when they stalked closer, unseen. Sinner is probably excels at such things, judging by the quiet footsteps of his massive body.
Compared to him, Lepis feels all the smaller. That doesn't show, not for a moment; she has squashed the thought with her steely control before it had even fully formed. The winged mare is every wary in Sylva, and she refuses to let her guard drop.
"Arthas told me he'd made a wolf our Champion." She says by way of introduction, tilting her head to better look him over with blue-grey eyes that are completely void of fear. "But you don't look like any wolf I've ever seen." She has seen very few, truly, but there are enough scars across her coat that having a few come from wolves is not too much of a stretch.
"I'm Lepis, by the way." While the Champion had been described to her, she is not entirely certain that Arthas had spoken of her to the residents of his new kingdom. She finds herself hoping that he had, which is unexpected, but she still looks for a flash of what might be recognition in Sinner's glowing eyes. They are hard to read, but Lepis has studied body language all her life. She can only hope that this hound shares at least something with the equines she knows so well.
