knox

The barbs on her tail are another threat--the moment that one flies, Knox's ears are thrown back in distinct unease. But he composes himself, does not lash out. He allows himself only a moment's hesitation, a soft grunt before nodding in agreement to her statement. She must use weapons of her own? Fine, so long as one of those needles doesn't find it embedded in his flesh.

Knox is good at his brother's command, but he doesn't know if he can be that good.

She proceeds to puff herself up, and given the evidence in her appearance and his task Knox is not one to deny her her bragging rights. Were he a little younger, a little less wed to his duty (for what else is he able to distract himself with now?) he might have run from her, too. But not today, not with all she's done for Milo and all he hopes to do for this herd. It isn't  much, but it's his foolish best.

When she says Kahelo, the hunter's heart lurches. Is that a name she has given his son, or a name he has given her? Is he following in his father's footsteps, or is she simply doing what he cannot and offering affection as simple as a moniker? But then she continues and confirms the second suspicion to be true. Knox at least does not have to be hurt by the idea that his son is confiding in others aside from himself, but the clear example of his poor part of playing the father cuts like a knife.

"We call him Milo," he answers, trying not to show his struggle. It is difficult to say the name that Aylin gave their child, and the one he so rarely says aloud. "The boy speaks rarely, and only to a few that he has known for some time. I'm not certain of a name for the condition," Knox says, hurt by the fact that he is not one that Milo speaks to. But does the boy really speak? Does talking only to a ghost count for anything?

The mention of his son flusters Knox (not visibly thanks to Cem) but seems to calm the mare. He notices the twitch of her hide as his hoof scrapes and ceases the motion abruptly, opting instead to toss his tail from side to side. When she motions with the broken fin on her side and gives her name, he nods curtly before speaking. He needs a moment, a chance to breathe in the night air, to forget all he has done wrong...

"Very well, Aquila." He pauses after he struggles with her name, now remembered but still beyond the grip of his tongue and the helovian language he has spoken his whole life. No matter, he does his best. "Yes, the Hidden Falls would be more than happy to heal you, regardless of whether or not you choose to follow me beyond our borders. But I should hope you will consider the offer, nontraditional as it might be," Knox adds, sure to remind her of why he has come. The Falls doesn't make a habit of capturing injured outcasts just to patch them up, after all.

"Regardless of whether or not you consider yourself a hero, you have done us a great service. We consider our fellow herd mates to be like family," Knox tells her with a soft nod of respect. The words mean more than either he can grasp or she can know.


""