So this is what it feels like . . . scrutiny . . .

What might have sent others running in fear or shuddering in revulsion held Kershov captive in fascination. Only a creature so used to holding strangers under a pin on a board could fully understand or experience that deep sense of being looked into—only that sort of cold observer could recognize examination when a different examiner held the microscope. And this pale blue-eyed brute was certainly an examiner. Kershov had no way of knowing what this stranger saw in him. He didn’t care, actually. But unless pretty-boy here suddenly did something incredibly stupid and wildly unorthodox, nothing in the world could convince Ker otherwise to chase the ivory lad away now. The alabaster Alpha wanted this gentleman in his ranks. Abendrot needed another surgeon’s mind. Please be a Healer, please be a Healer . . .

Abruptly the searing sensation of scrutiny vanished, replaced by a vague smile so gentle and calm that anyone would pray to see it before they died. Ker’s ears flicked forward in approval at the respectful nod—always a nice touch—and his bleached fur settled a little smoother along his spine and shoulders as pure and deep relaxation replaced guarded interest. The exits of Darien and Night Blood were barely noted, for those two were grown-ups and could supposedly take care of themselves; all concentration centered solely on the petite, almost feminine form of the recruit as he lowered himself into a true submission pose on the ground. Huh. That was rather wonderful. The glacial gladiator couldn’t count the number of times he’d had hubris-filled fools line up on his fence refusing to show proper deference to their potential Regent. What was the big deal, anyway? Submitting wasn’t the same as selling one’s soul or crushing one’s self-respect into dust underfoot. It was a necessary payment.

“Greetings, Sir Key. Rise. What brings you to Abendrot?” Ker politely took a step backward, angling his colossal body to invite the slip of a male past the invisible wall. “I have to deal with a . . . a problem, but he can wait.” Damn challenger. Wasting his precious time. “Where do your talents lie? No pressure. You’re already a member of Abendrot.”


[OOC: My muse is....shriveled like a little raisin. halp]