Moonspear infestation, oppression, possession

His answers were here, and there, together at once and his growing impatience was not hard to miss. Her ears adjusted to a subtle tilt back alongside a thoughtful flick of one. She was not a wolf in need of diplomats, that much was fine by her standards, whereas hunters were a different kind of consideration with the season tilting towards the frosts, fast. "No skilled hunter? Can you carry your weight as one?" she queried and canted her head, keeping all implications clear with her minty eyes narrowed still. He didn't look like a scavenger, and she didn't need freeloaders for the winter. Pitching his weight into combat was due its certain sort of appreciations--especially here, with her and what she cultivated--but it was not all there was to be. "Is he the only one you have met?" Or were expectations that based on him alone? Ame wondered, and fought the urge to glance sidelong at the sterling juvenile. 

Behemoth was straightforward and she knew he wasn't the sort to tolerant lengthy displays, and neither was she sure anything said here and now on the spot was going to impress her massively. Hard to convince thanks to traitors and otherwise, she needed time, and action, to prove that she could even consider a genuine, lasting interest towards knowing. She liked he came with no obvious baggage--as someone from nowhere should presumably, and interesting enough to catch her sons eye. The matron would need more time to warm up to him, however. If he was worth it.

Since he said he knew little of them, she could be bothered to share. "Moonspear," she gestured back, up. Her introduction, and wants, were easy enough to keep clear before this went any further; she could interrogate him until he got sick of it and left, or, see how it could go if he stayed. "I am Ame. Here, loyalty is to me, and mine first. And capable sorts can find a comfortable spot." If he truly considered himself well-rounded enough to survive here and keep on her family's good graces, then this could be the beginning of his acceptance, but she knew better than to put too much weight into it. As for what it might mean for him, and a niche that she might like him to find: "I like to have a strong guard--with a good chance at offense too." She never knew what it would take, what would finally push them enough to need it--but whatever it may be, she wanted her spire poised and ready.