The young woman who walked into the Sorting Room carried a bow and quiver of arrows on her back, but ignored those in favor of a knife with a large garnet set in the hilt. She looked to be about twenty, and very fit. Her curly brown hair was chopped close to her head where it wasn't pulled back into a tail, and her tanned skin was laced with pale
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Blind Seer glanced at her for a moment, one of those "oh please don't leave me alone with this" looks that he would later deny even knowing how to make. After a moment when it became obvious that she would not turn back to them, he grunted softly and turned his attention to the dog. Stiff-legged, he stalked over, towering above the little thing, and glared down at it with icy dignity.
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Do you two like stories? I could read you both some.
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She was proud, though, and continued to ruffle the parchment, unaware that she held it upside-down.
"I have met very few other beasts who could read," Blind Seer admitted. "Most of the others have been of the wingéd folk."
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He waited for inevitable accolades. When none were immediately forthcoming, he prompted: "So that means I AM THE ONE you want to speak with. RIGHT"
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Firekeeper spoke first, mostly to cover Blind Seer's instinctive warning growl. "Do you mean us harm, large lizard?"
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She'd actually been fairly sure that humans, as a rule, didn't have lusi, but damn if these two didn't act like Nepeta and Ponce.
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While wolves relied most heavily on their noses for awareness of the world around them, blind pups would not last long in the harshness of the Iron Mountains.
"What is?" she asked, cocking her head to the side expectantly. She and Blind Seer were well-traveled by now, after six years away from their birth pack. New words were to be expected.
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