Julan was not given much time to think about his apparent success with Narsi before he himself started to get questioned. He turned his head back towards Rhazii briefly, then glanced down at the scar on his leg. Thanks to his body's capacity for healing, it was rather thin, but still visible if he looked closely enough. "Yeah, that was a part of my trial. Or...um, well, [i]getting stabbed[/i] wasn't a part of the trial, I mean. But, um, it did happen because of it."

Julan turned to the side so that both Rhazii and Narsi could see his tattoos. "I met my grandfather for the first time when we went to the village. He wanted me to do the trial. See, the trials are like a, uh, test to see if an apprentice can become a full hunter in the village. I know I'm not from the village, but as long as I passed one of the trials, then I'd still be one of the hunters. Officially, I guess. I think my grandfather really wanted me to be a part of the village; I know he wanted me and my parents all to stay, but...I just ended up doing the trial. They have four of them that you get to choose from, and I chose the trial of might. It's pretty much just a duel, but with real weapons. Not to the death or anything, but it has to be against a full hunter. Someone who is supposed to be bigger, older, stronger, more experienced, and all that. It's apparently a rare trial to pass. I know I probably had an advantage as a lycan, but it was still hard." Julan explained, running one of his claws over his scar. "These tattoos are the marks for the trial of might. They show a swamp leviathan, which is apparently one of the most dangerous monsters in all of Black Marsh. They represent, uh, well...strength."

[hr]

Given that Fendros had given several suggestions at once, Ahnasha went about thinking on them one at a time, and some for longer than others. She hesitated for a few seconds, leaning back in thought in her chair. Rather than keeping her hands idle, she reached out and grabbed the pot of tea that Fendros had prepared, though stopped short of actually pouring any more into her cup. "Well, I can still say with confidence that you do know me very well...because I hate the first idea. Probably at [i]least[/i] the second worst choice we could make. As for the second...I can at least see where you got the idea from, but I'm really doubting that would work. There's a pretty huge difference between a priest of the Eight and a priest of the Reclamations. Very, [i]fundamentally[/i] different. You must really not have much experience with priests of the Eight if you think they have any sort of tendency for open-mindedness towards the [i]Daedra[/i], of all things. Besides...whose sermons do you think gave my mother her beliefs?" 

Rather quickly, Ahnasha's trend of dismissiveness came to a rather sudden halt as she worked through in her mind on Fendros' final proposal. Initially, it did sound like a horrible idea, but it did not take too much thought for her to realize what it might accomplish. There was some actual potential for it to turn out well, as long as she took care in ironing out the details of how exactly to present it to her family. It was, of course, much less ideal than if they simply accepted the story she had told them, but there was some possibility to salvage an actual, positive relationship with her family if they did not. "But that third one..." Ahnasha began, setting down both the pot of tea and her empty cup. "...I can't believe I'm saying this, but there might actually be something there. Maybe. If I could put the story together right. Then it becomes almost like a...noble sacrifice on my part. Trying to save the soul of a wild beast. Still, not something I would want to tell them unless I'm sure they didn't buy the first story, but...I can't say it's a bad idea."