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The glint in Circe’s eye as she studied the quality of Apollo’s expression was a pensive one; was it her, or did the stallion looked particularly aggrieved at the mention of the flighty temptress? Circe had not been in close quarters with the head of Intelligence; she had only glanced her way once before, at the only herd meeting she had been present for. The spotted mare had seemed agreeable at the time, though Circe knew appearances and surface scratches barely revealed the iceberg underneath the dismal seas; Circe supposed that there was some sort of previous association between the limber mare and the Earth Medic, an association Apollo seemed to keep secret. Well, let it be secret, Circe thought with a casual flick of her tail. If the stallion had skeletons in his closet—whether they be the remains of a lovesick heart or a knife left buried in the back—Circe absolutely couldn’t have cared any less. It wasn’t her job to know the intricacies of her herdmates’ lives; it was her duty to slaughter poor bastards and assist in the slaughter poor bastards.
Circe listened as Apollo explained to the spotted feline how they would be obliged to help the poor creature find some nourishment, coolly inclining her head when her name was mentioned; she noted the slightly bemused expression in that slitted pupil, and suddenly the sorceress was well entertained with the creature. It was only right she should feel some confusion as her own prey offered to help the cat find even more prey. Not that Circe thought herself as prey—far from it—but looking from a predator’s eyes and heart, she understood the viewpoint. To some dumb brute loping on the mountain faces in ankle-deep snow, Circe was just a dumb carcass sitting in the sunset glow of a dying forest.
*“… I have just one question…Who is The Grey?”*
Circe’s head lifted slightly, the words striking a cord deep within her memory; not so long ago the shadowmere had uttered those exact words in this exact forest, only on that occasion she spoke with the Poisoner of their outfit, Lakota. And like that occasion, Circe noted how forward the leopard spoke; she neither dawdled nor ran head first into a decision. She inquired and calculated, and all the while those quick blue eyes were assessing the two horses. The corners of Circe’s lips lifting slightly, the shadowmere decided to honor the leopard’s brevity with her own. “We are the Grey,” she said simply, husky tones emanating from her lips with careful cadences, “We come from a larger body of mercenaries who fight for those who cannot fight for themselves, but can pay for the brawn of another. We belong only to ourselves; we owe no allegiance to any other herd, near or far. We fight for the right price and for the preservation of our livelihood; we look out for each other’s back and act as Shield Brother and Blade Sister to one another. Such is our communion.”
Circe paused, a thought occurring to her; Apollo seemed to think highly of the she-beast, yet how would the leopard perceive their admittedly barbaric family? Would she acquiesce to joining their family—or would she prefer the company of other, more docile groups? She decided to give the leopard the option. “If you would prefer company of a group a little less confrontational,” she said, a silken lilt entering her voice, “You might consider the Dragon’s Throat to the south, a clan full of winged warriors.” She then looked to Apollo for assistance; Circe herself was not so learned in the different tribes of Helovia, though she was aware of them.
When and if Apollo had finished his demonstrative knowledge of the other herds, Circe turned to look the leopard in her eyes. “I promised you I am no enemy so long as you wish it,” she said, her head falling slightly so that she was level with the leopard’s eyes, “Though I warn you; I cannot be responsible for the reception other families might have of you; we tend to be flighty creatures.” Giving a small chuckle that rumbled her sides, Circe let some of the tension drain from her eyes, so that they were the warmest and most genuine they had ever appeared in this forsaken land.
“Tell me, sher cat; do you have a name?”
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