He is not surprised when the stallion expresses anger and shock. Wouldn't Knox do the same in the situation?

{Zsoka:} You would never get caught! Never!
True.

It seems his skills know no bounds. Knox's tail flicks to the side and his neck straightens in something like pride. The two red warriors, Huric and the stranger, are not so unlike. This is what Knox suspects, anyway, he of course cannot say for sure. But he hopes that his old ancestor will be a comfort to one as twitchy as this, anyway.

The pegasus' words are wild, flung like accusations that Huric is thankfully calm enough to bear the brunt of. A name? Yes, that would be nice, and Knox would demand it first, but Huric... that martyr knows better.

"You don't have to tell me your name if you don't want to," the fell says. His voice is low and soothing, seeming so different from Knox's tone. It is curious how the hunter's voice can sound so different depending on the mind that controls it.

"And I wasn't the one who blinded you, I'm simply the one who has chosen to bring you here. You seem able and strong; your talent, like mine and that of my accomplice who cast his spell on you, would be wasted in the wilderness," Huric says, stepping back to give the stallion some breathing room. Knox would match the pegasus' height, but Huric stands slightly below and feels much smaller without such grand wings. The two might both be heavy beasts, but Lotherarius' apparent strength is undeniable. "You've been brought here in the manner that you have to remain discreet, but the Hidden Falls wishes you no ill. We would rather you forgive the manner of your arrival and consider lending your strength to our cause," he adds, hoping the appeal does not seem so strange.

Another pause, an odd one. He, Knox, keeps finding himself plagued by them. "There is safety in numbers. Talents such as those of your captor take root in many of those who reside here; if you joined us, they would be used to guard and care for you, in exchange for your intent to do the same," His ears curve forward, his interest piqued. What will the massive creature say? Will he call Huric mad?

"I can tell you more, about the herd and the one who took your sight, but only if you choose to remain with us. I'm sure you understand that some information belongs only in the care of those whom we can trust," the hunter says, forcing his own thoughts through his ancestor's rose lips. Discretion is, as always, key.

And now the long wait--the anxious, heavy breath of anticipation. Is this all a foolish plan, or has the hunter for once had a plan that might help?

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