Black Morass i lost myself into the night

Her green gaze watched as he grew aware of her and his posture shifted. His gaze was full of fury, his teeth a flash against the darkness of his body. Her own shone bright and dangerous, as if she was not the tiny waif that she was, as if her figure cut as impressively as his did and her body matched her spirit. While he moves closer no doubt to inspect her there is a subtle change in her too; while traveling she has made little use of her rank in the pack with everything upheaved and skewed. Now though they move to claim a hunting ground, a place for her to begin a small garden, a place that will soon become to playground of the Fearghal children. Now Hemlock is settling, and the life that Isley had imagined is closer and yet different. There will be children - but not her own - and a family to tend to, one she has made and staked her claim on. 

She allows him to near despite the rigidity of her posture, the flag of her tail. She can't dominante him with her size, but she trusts in herself. What worse could he do to her than she has already survived? He is so close that she can take many scents from him in turn, and there is a note to his scent that is heady, untempered; unchecked. Her nostrils flare for a moment and she issues a low growl, a warning. She lets him circle, but she watches like a hawk, prepared to defend herself if need be although she does not think he would be so foolish. But then again, there are many strangers in Teaghlaigh now - and even those she thought she knew like Olive and Dakarai she does not truly.