Shadow Mountain i'll be the blood if you be the bones

ah - there he is, the wisp of scent she barely remembers. a notable enough encounter for his scent to stick out, but not notable enough to survive being oushed to the back of her mind. She surveys him once, dull humour glinting in her gaze; it seems he has not gotten any better at fighting. She too notes the way he ignores her, perhaps out of foolish pride, but says nothing on the subject. Instead, her gaze turns cooly to the raven, prepared already for something of this nature. "I am a warrior by trade. I fight well, and rarely do I loose." This was said without arrogance, though her gaze turned once to the male before settling back to the woman. 

but this was a pack more akin to the wood than the others she'd come across, and she duly elaborated. "I take lives" Here she fell silent, for she did not need elaborate further. Her claim was made, her cheif skill outlined as easily as possible. She could hunt as well as any wolf, as was made obious by her survival, and she manipulated and she killed. But these things were left unsaid, for surely the scars that adorned her pelt would be proof of her experience, and the fact that she lived still proof of her tendancy to win.