lost to the hunt as I was to you; any

[Daemron]

Having been somewhat distracted by Red’s antics, the chestnut only takes notice of Rey’s changing pelt once the wolf leaves. The irony of her crimson coloring was not lost on him, and the edge of his mouth twitches. Still, it doesn’t truly startle him to see her flesh turn from one shade to another. Having been raised by a magician and a manipulator alongside Cerva and Nihlus, very little in the way of others’ powers had ever surprised him. At her initial comment, however, a spark of humor flashes in Daemron’s faintly-glowing eyes. Her voice seems like one roughened by smoke, and he watches as she relinquishes some of the stiffness her garnet frame had brazenly held while in the maned wolf’s presence. “Not too keen on them, then?” He observes. The mare’s flagrant reaction had piqued his curiosity for the moment, and as she steps forth from the forest’s cover his willowed tail flicks about his hocks. She goes on speaking of Red, though by the end he is making a reproachful sound in his throat. “Careful,” he says with a look of some amusement, “She could still be within earshot.” Truthfully, he knew the ruddy wolf was already well out of it (long limbs churning up musty earth, running low across the forest floor) but he felt somewhat inclined to test the colorshifter’s reactions further, if only to see what shade she might turn next. A quiet is in the woods now, lying thick and heavy about them after the short scuffle that had taken place. “Daemron,” he intones once a weighted pause has passed by way of introduction. Unwittingly, the phrasing she’d used had struck a nerve. He is reminded of the years he’d spent in desolate seclusion after those he loved most had abandoned him, and his tone becomes somewhat caustic because of it. “While I’m tempted to call you Red, that happens to be the wolf’s name.” His teeth flash. “So if what you saw really was a lover’s quarrel, it might be best to avoid that sort of confusion.” daemron lost to the hunt as I was to you