The graceful fae sat on the edge of the borders, peering into the vast territory. After the scare with Redhawk, she was not so eager to meet pack wolves. However, her foreleg was worst, and she really needed herbs. She howled, a respectful request for company.
She lay down, her stance as none threatening as possible. Now, she would wait. She sighed in relief, the snow felt good on her hot, swollen injury.
Calling
@Dante in case he wants to tell Pura off!
The first thing that struck him was the cloying scent of
sickness.
It burned in his nose, forcing the youth's expression into a tense sneer. It was with this face and slow, cautious steps that he approached the source of the call that had summoned him.
The loner was a girl - petite, with a black smear on her back, as though she had been marked for something. Pura's stark, cold eyes wandered from her attractive face to her fat, infected leg and back again, cataloguing her physical qualities.
"You're sick," he announced, pausing a few paces away without breaking eye contact.
Jade dipped her head. "Yes. Can you help?" she asked him. She gazed at the strange, blunt wolf. Another pack member would ask her why she was here, or chase her away. This one got straight to the point, and didn't ask for an explanation.
Argh, sorry this is so outdated.
"Yes." At least she didn't try to lie about something so blatantly obvious.
"Can you help?" "No," Pura told her flatly, and promptly began to advance. He would drive her away without bloodshed, just as Peregrine had said you could do. The smell of her did not stir him to fight - she was injured, and the taste of her flesh would no doubt bear hints of whatever unseen evil had infested her leg.