Raschen eyed her when she avoided him, following her gaze to the brush and to the eyes that watched them. His nostrils flared as he took a long silent wiff of the breeze that wandered from that direction. He bit his lip some. He knew what they were. He knew what they were capable of. He knew if a confrontation occurred that it would be hard to keep them from using the little ones to their advantage. The only option was to find peace and to establish it swiftly. The group was his responsibility and so it fell on him to act as negotiator.<br/><br/>He slowly pushed Taryn behind him, taking a few steps toward the eyes as he saw them multiplying the moment he moved toward them. He took only enough steps forward that he would be a long enough wall between them and the little ones for Jax and Taryn to enact defenses.<br/><br/>"Inali..." He spoke softly to the hidden group, calling them by their clan name. His chest was filled with air and every muscle tensed to make him all the more intimidating a target. He had to appear powerful without using his magicks. To use his magick against them would only call upon their entire clan to attack them in mass. "I am Raschen...Sheriff of the east Warren...we are exiled and we make for the Ochsen reservation in the morning. We seek no violence...only peaceful travel through your lands. I am sorry that we must stay here this night but our little ones can only travel so far in a day and our women are still weary from birth. I give you my word we mean no trespass and we mean no harm..."<br/><br/>As he pleaded his case he could feel their eyes wandering the green tattoo like veins that glowed with his magicks. They were sizing him as prey or predator. He had no way to tell which they would assume him to be. Raschen's ears rose high as deceptively small tawny paws stepped from the brush, leaving no prints in the sand they traversed. Six emerged, showing their extensive ability to shield their numbers and bodies from sight and sense. They stood tall as Raschen yet thin and lean as young Hase, their tan hides painted in crimson and azure, cockatrice feathers woven into leather band that squeezed their upper limbs to dull any pain to their extremities. They lived with chests bare to show their intricate paints, caring only to cover their loins from exposure with hide britches and knee length loin cloth.<br/><br/>Descendants of the once proud desert fox, the Inali. What gave away their origins were the tall, two toned ears that beveled on their narrow, pointed heads, like satellites searching for a better signal. The golden eyes of the scouting troupe's leader bore into Raschen with the greatest suspicions of his intentions and words, his long, thickly fluffed tail whipping in agitation and his nostrils flaring and narrowing again and again. The group that stood watch behind Raschen could feel the dark eyes of his companions watching them as if daring them to move as this negotiation took place. Raschen stood silent, his emerald gaze meeting the bright gold of the other. He knew better than to speak out of turn.