She ticked her head to the side—a single eyebrow lifting in response to his words. "Hm—touché." A tone of rueful bemusement entered into her voice with the admission. "I suppose you do have a point." Shifting on her feet—she leaned her back up against the closest tree; arms folding across her chest—whether in defensiveness or simply for something to do with them would be anyone's guess.
Her brow furrows but she says nothing—not to his quip about blows to the head; nor his knowledge of tribal practices. She made it a habit not to talk of rituals she knew nothing about—saved everyone from any sort of offense in the long run.
"Careful—I might bite back; but not in any way you'd enjoy." Her lips twitched up in a small rueful smirk—at odds with her near steely tone and the sharpening of her gaze. She made no move to drift closer though—content to keep her distance for now.
Gerwulf thought of it as a win, or at least a step forward, as the stranger didn't just walk off in the darkness or pull out some kind of weapon. The crossing of arms was usually a tell, creating distance and a boundary; however, in this case, it may have just been pragmatism as the only other place to place them was to one's side. Which would have just made the person seem a bit Emo, his mind jumping to this thought just made him shake internally at his own nonsense.
His offer to the person was genuine and sincere; he didn't believe that she meant him harm, and his demeanor was usually disarming enough. It was one of his strengths, making friendly banter with anyone he came across. In this case, it was the stranger who did that, and he was just making options known. "Oomph... I really suggest you keep thoughts like that to yourself," He responded almost playfully as he slowly got to his feet, only taking a couple of steps closer to the fire and its roasting mechanism before sitting back down.
He placed the campfire between the two of them, not out of fear but to provide a sense of security to the stranger. Continuing then, his words came, "I am a stranger and you have no idea what kinds of things I enjoy." The gravelly gruffness of his voice was a little more apparent as he took a deeper breath of the scent of roasting meat and smoking wood. "I would be a poor wayfarer if I didn't offer basic necessities to others according to the old ways." His voice rang out with a more jovial nature than the stranger's sharper tone. "If not, at the very least, make it so that we are no longer strangers. I am known as Gerwulf."
She didn't reach for a weapon—because she had no need to carry one; if her magic couldn't hurt something then her inner wolf could. What was the point of relying on such...human inventions? She almost sneered as her mind shaped the word human but stopped herself at the last moment. That sort of expression could be taken the wrong way.
"Oh would you now?" She lifted an eyebrow—her head cocking to the side as her eyes seemed to gleam in the firelight he'd placed between them; now more gold than blue. More lupine than human. "I'm sure that would depend on what I meant by bite—now wouldn't it?" She's almost certain nobody would want to be on the receiving end of her wolven fangs. Not unless they were some kind of masochist anyway.
Shaking her head as if to dislodge that thought—she kept her attention pinned on him; like a predator stalking it's prey. "The old ways? You can't be that much older than me." So why did he talk as if he came from an entirely different era? Her brow furrows and she narrowed her eyes on him. "Nascha." She added in response to his jovial introduction.
Perhaps he didn't care, or that it was the fact that he was so relaxed right now that it didn't seem to occur to him that the other person was supernatural. The truth of the matter was that he didn't care; he was that type of person, allowing the path of the wind to shape the world without the need to control it. Not for a very long time, he thought to himself as he gauged the woman's response. Still a bit too bestial, he thought, so very young perhaps, or just vehemently aggressive. The glint of her eyes they were pretty, he thought as his pale green eyes just watched passively.
Matching her lupine aggression with curious acceptance, like what an old dog would do when meeting a feisty cat. "Of course, as for the meaning. I understand all kinds, so let's keep that behind closed doors." Gerwulf let out a jest, given that they were in the woods and there were no doors to hide things behind. Whatever the stranger was thinking, she couldn't possibly understand what kinds of things humanity wore on its sleeve when it came to pleasure. Watching her still, as she shook her head and began to watch him in that pleasing manner.
Like someone who believed they could tear someone apart without consequence. He liked that look, or used to. It had been so long since he had a woman look at him like that, without him needing to kill them. "I'm probably not that old, so don't worry about the habits I tie myself to." Nodding then, as soon as she introduced herself. He'd have motioned to the fire; however, he had already made that offer, and she'd close the distance if she wanted to. "Greetings, Nascha, do you go strolling through the woods a lot by yourself? Admiring the moonlight..." He said lightly, lifting his hand as if he were bathing in it. Gerwulf did quirk his head, his mind drifting as he tried to remember where he had heard her name before.
It wasn't that she was aggressive—jaded perhaps; wary—definitely—you couldn't go through the type of things she had in her young life and not develop a defensive mechanism or two. He wasn't human—her wolf senses could scent that much; even from this distance. But he was still an unknown. So for now—she'd content herself to watch.
Her shoulder lifted in a lopsided shrug—the teeniest amount of humour tugging at the corners of her lips; despite her attempt to remain stoic. "Whatever you say—old man." She chuckled then; the quip falling from her lips without her really meaning to utter it. Yet she did as asked—dropping all mention of biting. Even if her wolf would definitely take a chunk out of him if warranted.
"No—but I do oftentimes run alone." She put a weird—if one didn't know what she was—emphasis on the word run. Of course; as a lone wolf it wasn't as if she had others to run with—even if she'd wanted to.
