Herbalists' Cache pussy wagon

The display of the wolf's sickle teeth sent alarm through her, but Varinril stood her ground. The flash of ivories had not been overly belligerent, only cautious. Her unnamed company looks around, understandably checking for others, before taking her prize and moving away to chew on it without further interference. Naturally, Varinril investigates where the she-wolf had been, sniffing pretty much everywhere to uncover what she can...which wasn't a whole lot. Loner. A year old. Eating something that smelled savory and tart.

Varinril locks eyes on her prone frame, thoughtful. What was she doing wandering the wilds so young? Could it be trouble at home? That would make them kindred spirits, then. But the pale-furred Renatus was more concerned with what she had rather than what she was going through. Watching her noisily chew that savory treat, Varinril took two steps forward, nose twitching nonstop. A high-pitched whine left her, her body taut with indecision. She wanted to investigate but did not want to feel the scourge of Mallaidh's fangs.