Silvertip Mountain watch the oceans rising high

A deadly hush fell over the mountain, as though the world bated its breath. She relished it, the danger and the rush of headhunting; long had she been denied it. This was not Neverwinter's way, but Jinx had forgotten all about Neverwinter's rules, and parley was far from her mind. She was mindful of the fact that outright attacking non-pack was not technically permitted, or at least strongly discouraged, but the details and inner workings of Styx's rules had fled her mind, to be replaced with something primal: instinct. There were no rules in the wild.

It did not take long for Jinx to be found; the black woman came flying out of nowhere, as if the mountain itself had birthed her from the depths of its rocky foundation. She was unsure where from, but Tonravik had materialized; what was important was she was here now. She was in a headlong charge, barreling down the mountain's decline with the fury of a fully grown tiger, and likely the deadliness of one as well. Jinx's gaze flicked up instantly, and a coy little smile flirted with the corners of her lips. Here was the arrogant fool who thought to try to claim land at the very edge of Neverwinter's own, and here was the arrogant fool she would put down.

(There was irony here, for the title of arrogant fool might better have been assigned to not the ferocious black wolf but to herself, but of course, where opinion was concerned there was bias of thought; Tonravik was necessarily arrogant and stupid, and Jinx was necessarily intelligent and entitled, and that was how it was according to her).

Even as the Tartok female — entirely unfamiliar to Jinx, which may well have been her detriment and her very biggest mistake, for it was dangerous to ever underestimate one of Siku's pupils — hurtled down the mountainside at her, Jinx faced her, unflinching, until a moment she deemed close enough: suddenly, she whirled away from her attacker's charge, and suddenly was bolting uphill, reversing the direction of their inevitable clash quite expertly. She would be surprised if Tonravik was even able to stop in time to figure out where she'd gone, and the thought that she might never figure it out was coloured in a victorious light. Jinx hadn't needed her to be close to tell that the other woman was much heavier and possessed more muscle than she, and throwing that much weight back to stop a headlong charge downhill was not an easy feat by any means.

In the meantime, Jinx continued to barrel up the mountainside, a haughty snigger bursting from her lips as she left Tonravik in her proverbial dust; she couldn't possibly have known that this female had been born on mountains and was therefore a hundredfold as sure-footed and swift on them as she, for she already believed she had outsmarted and outplayed the wannabe dominant female of this “pack”. How could she possibly lose her advantage? She would continue running uphill until she put sufficient distance between them, and then she would angle her course into a downhill hurtle the likes of which a rollercoaster would be jealous of, and she would use its momentum to carry her right back into Neverwinter's heart with a triumphant laugh and mockery on her tongue.