try to guess / open

[WINTERWOLF]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]To say that Winter believed in magic might sound foolish to anyone else's ears. He was stoic and irritable, everything about him screaming that he kept his feet solidly on the ground. And the powers people displayed — those were hardly magic, right? They were rarer here than they were back home, but people still threw fire like it was nothing. Perhaps it was nothing. He had never been able to do it himself, even under duress. No, he was normal. Boring. Magic was something else entirely and even though Winter doesn't have the experiences that Caithe must, to speak of mortals, he believes. Not in fate, or destiny (his choices would always be his own to claim, as would the consequences), but something more elegant than both. Was he a spiritual man? No. Some things, however, were difficult to deny. In this case, the lion is simply reminded of luck. Unlike Bones, he had been close enough to lift his head and see the struggle with the dirt, attention drawn to prey and muttered curses.

Unforgiving amusement makes his expression seem both softer and harder than usual, yet it's cleared entirely before he steps closer to the group. Neutral, that's what's easiest. "That would be an embarrassing way to injure yourself," he remarks dryly, tone anything but a gentle jest. "The rabbit won."