no bite marks, no scratches | warship, any.

[Kushiel]

Kushiel, for his many faults, knew how to enjoy himself. He had been blessed with a high tolerance for bullshit and a low threshold for satisfaction. In other words, he could probably talk to a tree and find the conversation enjoyable.

Luckily, his new companions were a great deal more interesting than trees.

He watched Kimber and Warship’s exchange with a smirk. They seemed to have a bit of history, though he didn’t care enough to puzzle out what exactly. She wasn’t his daughter, so maybe some sort of strange protege? He shrugged it off and grinned, the devil dancing a merry two-step behind his eyes.

“Does she now?” He looked Kimber over with interest. It didn’t cross his mind that doing so would be rude. However, before he could say something, probably something lewd about how he enjoyed a woman with claws, the woman in question spoke. He laughed at her question and gave a toss of his head, bits of ash flying, and the distinct scent of smoke rising from the remaining strands.

“While I can’t in good conscious deny being a glutton, yes, this is my cross to bear.” His eyes twinkled a little in barely retained amusement.

“Though your sympathy makes the burden that much easier.” She hadn’t actually been sympathetic, but that’s all just technicalities really. Kushiel wasn’t about to let reality dictate his state of mind.

The two certainly had some history. If Kushiel didn’t know better, he would have thought he interrupted an argument between too salty fishwives. As it was, he was happy to listen, that is until he was dragged back into it. Kushiel couldn’t help it, he barked out a laugh at the thought of himself defending anyone’s honor.

“Hold up a second, princess. These hooves really aren’t made for manual labor. I’m more of a thinker, if you get my meaning.” Kushiel looked Warship up and down. No, he wasn’t about to attempt that for love or money, or even self respect. Kushiel had to draw the line somewhere, and that line was at exerting himself. It was unseemly really.

Besides, Kushiel knew how to spot immortality. His own mother was after all. He would bet the last remaining strands of his mane that Warship had been around a while. Aside from that, he was the commander. He shot the girl a confused expression. Who did she think he was? Even his own honor didn’t mean that much to him, much less anyone else's. But still, he was quite certain his life wasn’t in any immediate danger as long as he didn’t take any suggestions from his new friend.

“While I will most certainly respond to anything you choose to call me, most have settled for Kushiel.” Even that was a bit of a lie. He’s been called many things, and more often than not, it’s something other than his name. He looked between them again.

“Your reputation precedes you, Warship. But, who exactly are you, and what has poor Warship done to earn your disfavor? I’m sure he’s much aggrieved.” Kushiel was quite certain Warship was anything but aggrieved, but he did enjoy poking the bear with a stick. Poor old man, it must be very tiring, having to babysit the children.