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He glanced askance at her as she choked, but she had herself in control fairly swiftly. At her question however, he made a humming noise and hide his face behind his mug for a moment. When he set the drink down, he laced his fingers together on the tabletop to keep her from seeing them shake.

"Yes, I have. Several of them. I...I was part of the initial contingent force that..." He swallowed thickly, his gaze going distant as he remembered. "We were the first ones to engage them. By the time we reached the boundary of the Wood, four villages had already been decimated."

Remembering was painful. For the longest time, his own subconscious had locked away the entire fight to keep him from falling into a very deep, debilitating shock. He'd never rightly thought about how traumatizing feeling one's own mortality so succinctly could be. Liadain turned her gaze to her chosen, her ears forward. The doe didn't like him remembering such things.

With a sigh, he continued his story, because if he stopped now, he wouldn't ever start again, which wasn't healthy in its own right. "We tried evacuating the villagers, but the Wolves came out of the trees before we could even start. Massive beasts... They were like a tied of death surging into the village, their howls ripping the breath from your lungs. We...we didn't stand a chance," he said, looking down at his hands. "We were cut down like paper dolls, so easily torn apart and discarded. Guns were...useless against them. Swords barely cut them, and never enough to stop them. Myself, Danson, Crawford, and Shaw...we all stood between the monsters and the fleeing villagers. Our brothers lay dead all around, some running towards us to join the last stand. It only took one Wolf to finish us...the rest went around without a thought, after the villagers."

He grew quiet as memories assaulted him. That one wolf had been huge, bigger than the rest, and black as pitch. It had attacked him first and if Shaw hadn't shoved him, Desmond would have lost his head instead of just his eye. But the result had been nearly the same; instead, Des had lost the last people he had cared about while he had been bleeding and unconscious, unable to help them as their dead bodies piled on top of his. Even in death, they had done their duties to protect the injured.

For a long time he'd wished that he had joined them in death.

Liadain let out an explosive snort and rose to her feet all in a rush, her head snapping forward as she bit him soundly on the shoulder.

The gray doe turned her furious stare on the woman dressed as a man and narrowed her turquoise eyes. They were filled with anger and though Desmond grimaced and put a hand to what was surely an already darkening bruise, he waved Mark and Nuala back. Liadain stomped a single hoof into the wooden floor hard enough to leave a small dent, then she was threading her way through the tables, pushing her way through the door as a hapless man tried to enter.

Sighing, Desmond downed the rest of his mug. He pulled his coat and shirt back enough to try glancing at the wound, but it was in too awkward of a spot. Mark would see it as an ugly purple and red darkening of the skin, very similar to a nasty horse bite.

"Please, Mark," he said, putting emphasis on the name as he glanced at those that had turned to watch the commotion. "Sit. It's fine." He gave a humorless laugh. "She didn't much approve of my train of thought, my Gray Lady..."

Desmond appreciated the blind doe's care and gently scratched her cheek as she 'hugged' him. He reached out for Liadain, but all he got in return was silence. Either she was too far away, or she had blocked him entirely. "I'm alright. Liadain, well...She has very lofty standards she holds me to." Mark would find this out to its full extent if she ever saw Liadain and Desmond train.

When the woman brought up her fiance, his expression grew pained and he wanted very badly to hold his hand out to her. But, he dare not. Instead he rubbed Nuala's neck and whispered in her ear, "Go give your lady a hug for me, sweet doe, since I cannot."

"Seems we share a common pain, although..." and he touched his cheek, just below the scar, "losing an eye is nothing compared to losing the one you love."

As if sensing how quickly and thoroughly the conversation had turned to such sadness, Vexation did her best to wiggle into Mark's lap, the usually exhuberent fox now a little more somber, her surprisingly soft tongue licking at the woman's hands.

He flexed his shoulder, wincing at the stretching of tender skin, though he got full range of movement. "Liadain may disapprove of something enough to bite or kick me, but she'll never disable me. Because then I can't fight." Giving Mark a rye grin, Desmond left money on the table and stood, calling Vex to his side.

"I'll walk you to your place, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave after that, find out where she went." And try to appease her with some strawberries, the doe's favorite treat. Something told him it wouldn't do much good and that he would get quite the thrashing later in the evening when they were set to spar at the Swan together. Gesturing for her to lead, he followed her out the door.

"Please don't let Liadain's outburst sour your opinion of her," he added quietly once they'd reached the street. It was hard to explain the relationship he had with his guardian. She was disapproving of nearly everything, she hated weakness, and had a fighting spirit that could rival even Soibhan's. But in her own way, she also cared deeply for her chosen; she wanted him to move past his disability, rise above his social inadequacy, and to be the strong, commanding soldier she had sensed he'd been before he lost his eye.

"Mm, yes it has. I haven't taken much time lately to have companionable meals, except with Soi." He gazed around, finding that many folk had gone home. The streets here were mostly clear of snow, with only a few spots still lingering. An ever present, dirty slush persisted however, and would do so until full spring swept it away. With the air cool but lacking any real bite, he would even go so far as to call it a beautiful evening.

He tentatively reached out for his guardian again, this time getting a pinprick of awareness. She was there, but still forcefully ignoring him. Feeling a little better about his ability to detect her now, he relaxed, following beside Mark with a new ease now.

"How often do instances such as with our butcher friend happen to you? If you don't mind me asking."

Desmond laughed. "Ah, yes. I can't imagine your pretty girl contributes to any kind of anonymity. I think most Chosen have that problem, actually." While he might not ever be recognized for his smithwork, he damn well got recognized for his somewhat intimidating guardian. He couldn't image how others with more flashy does and bucks could keep any kind of anonymity at all.

"Nuala aside, I think you have a good system. There's not much else you could do, to be honest. Unless you wanted to dress as nothing but a man whenever you are out of your home. Soibhan seems to have less issue because she's a foreigner, though she still gets unsavory sorts paying the wrong kind of attention to her."

He grinned. "She will teach you all you need to know on how to deal with that lot, however. Though," and he quickly held his hands up, "don't take that as an insult. You've proven your capabilities when dealing with louts."

He couldn't help but match her grin; it was just that infectious. Taking her hand, he shook it as he would a man's, because he felt that she would appreciate it. But then he lifted her hand just enough to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles, something he would do for any lady he respected.

"You've made this evening a pleasure, Maria Peregrine." Then he gave a slight bow to Nuala. "You as well, lady doe. I will send Vex when our little group gathers for a team exercise." With that he stepped back, snapping his fingers to get the fox's attention. Vex twined about Maria's legs like a cat before darting over to Nuala for a touch of noses. Then she pranced over to her master and the two of them turned back for home.