Kane drops his attention attentively to the gesturing hand, the green glimmer that it bears, and his brows knit in a moment of consternation, cognitive dissonance. It's true, he hasn't heard of Demos, and all of that warrants further explanation.
But Martel's hand goes up, and Kane has better sense than to ignore it.
Wolves don't attack men. Kane has had enough run ins with the mangy, skinny things that lurk in certain patches of the Free Marches to know this is true. However, he's also been in Emprise du Lion for sometime, and knows that what he knows doesn't always apply. The rivers freeze, and his brothers try to kill him, each other, themselves, and the wolves are very brave.
When the first one comes scrabbling out of the forest brush, Kane is already drawing his blade, swiping one-handed in the same motion, catching the animal across its snout.
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But Martel's hand goes up, and Kane has better sense than to ignore it.
Wolves don't attack men. Kane has had enough run ins with the mangy, skinny things that lurk in certain patches of the Free Marches to know this is true. However, he's also been in Emprise du Lion for sometime, and knows that what he knows doesn't always apply. The rivers freeze, and his brothers try to kill him, each other, themselves, and the wolves are very brave.
When the first one comes scrabbling out of the forest brush, Kane is already drawing his blade, swiping one-handed in the same motion, catching the animal across its snout.