Blackfoot Forest starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

they part, and her gaze is lit anew with smoldering intensity. they danced and they proved their ability to tear out another's throats, and yet nothing had come to pass. at least, no blood had been spilled. "try not to die, in the meantime."  she wonders how many enemies he's made in his time without throne, and hopes none of them kill him - she is not sure for the reason of the thoughts, whether it be her desire to take that honour or some other reason she does not dare examine. wild grin part her muzzle as she stares him off, so odd and stark against her features. then she turns her back on him, and is gone.