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He takes the cup from hand and slowly sips the wine, smiling slightly at the playful aggression of the pup. “So, you would be a warrior, then?” he says, distracting it with the sounding of his words within its ears. Reaching into a pouch he withdraws a small bundle of wound cloth wrapped in rabbit fur and, holding the cub’s eyes with it, flips it quickly from his hand that it might fly just over the pup’s head. He laughs at the quick transfer of aggressiveness from his clothing to the false rabbit. He studies the pup as he sips his wine, seeking clues to the manner in which it translates instinct into movement and comparing its spontaneity to the more ritualized patterns of movement he has observed within the older members of the pack.
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