 Maybe Aithne has a thing for those less fortunate than herself or those more susceptible to some imagined weakness. Maybe she is constantly trying to help others around her become more like her but she did not see anything wrong in offering the boy some sound advice. These wolves here in Molodian did not seem to know what to do when violence came there way. Avery had impressed her with her intelligence and willingness, one of the few wolves who Aithne could say she truly liked. Tristan was not inclined to fight, that much was clear, but that didn't mean he wouldn't one day be set upon. No amount of scrambling and tucking tail could get him out of a fight if the other wolf was so inclined. There were many out there who would use such as a hunting game, a sport. Around him she treks before her sudden lunge. Tristan is quick and jumps out of the way swiftly before looking upon her with surprised eyes. Aithne truly cannot help it; she spreads her forelegs apart, lowers her head, and bursts out laughing. Mirth dances in her emerald eyes as she looks up at him, her chest rumbling, a true enjoyment of this moment. It has been long since she has laughed like this, probably never before if she thought about it, but his comical expression and words do her in. "Do you think your mother's killer will warn you when she plans to kill you?" Slowly the mirth and laughter fade away as she straightens up, looking at him with a critical eye. "No. Her goal will not be to warn you but you kill you. She does not wish to fight you head on. All she wishes is to latch her teeth against your throat and wait until your heart fails, until your body stops twitching, and your eyes stop seeing." With each frightening word she steps closer and closer so that their noses are almost close together. She stops suddenly and takes a step back, hearing his other words. "You have broad shoulders. Keep your legs spread when fighting and ready to move, to fly any direction you need. Keep your head tucked down if they get close to you. There is less of a chance they can get to your throat. Sometimes that means sacrificing another portion of your body to do so, but a few scars and some pain are less than death, I'd think. I do not think it likely that you will ever wish to kill," she says, raising a brow slightly to him before continuing. "So your goal will be to maim them. To hurt them enough that they quit and you have enough time to get away. Go for the legs if you can, especially if they are turned from you." She shuffles closer, lowering her maw so that her nose touches the brittle thin part of his lower leg. "These bones will shatter with the right bite. Shred the tendons so that when they move all the know is agony. Take out this knee joint or this ulna here," she continues, pressing her nose next to his hind leg and the joint that pops forward, his stifle joint, and then to the back of his foreleg where his ulna presses out and into the side of his chest. "Stay away from her head if you can. Disable her enough, bone by bone, and she cannot come get you." A I T H N E Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing; bow down to the mighty _______________________ |