OOC: FYI Not trying to turn this into a fight D:

The morning was unkind to the female’s tired eyes; the first hint that she had slept longer than her usual. The dawn had been her intended hour to rise, but her body was weak and fatigue had settled deeply into her bones dragging down the great beast to find comfort on the earthen floor. But it was with the stark light of the sun that she was compelled to rise and stretch long limbs and heavy paws toward the bush that encompassed her keep. Sincerely she hoped that the beast of the mountain would not be angered by her delayed greet of the morning, yet part of her did not fully believe he would be angered. Yet there was always that sliver of doubt in her mind that favored the contrary.

Never the less she rose with careful ease, stretching fully then began her rounds about the territory. In her rounds she remarked the trees and hardy bushes, leaving the essence of not only herself but the Vale, reclaiming in earnest what was theirs to protect and serve.

Still in the morning, she came upon the thickly vegetated edges of the land that led between the mountains, but found it was only the scent of the Vale that lingered there. It was the musk of a male, permeating the heavy scent she carried. Her nostrils flared in bother as lips unfurled without warning, and from her throat slithered a growl as she crept closer to the threshold of her domain. How unfortunate for the bold that her first sight would be a spot of white within the green, for without word, the warden sprang from the gathering brushes, her shoulders forward and braced in an effort to knock into the white transgressor.

Her shoulder had made contact, yet its force was lacking as the quicker steps of the male kept him just out of reach. His insult was deafened by the eruption from her parting maw, though her ears did flicked forward, indicative of her receiving his aged chords. “My lands…” she snarled, while placing a firm step forward. “…no they are not.” She was no fool to contest the obvious, but surely even he would have grown nervous if the wolf of the Vale tread too close to his resident borders. And as she recalled by the glimpse to his flank, this was not the first time she had seen his likeness near their lands.

“…but you press your luck to come so close,” she continued as her hardened stare drifted downward to the bundle protectively held by his shadow. “Was it not your Alpha that claimed the Creek wished to ‘avoid’ the Vale?” What sort of community was being run when so few seemed to adhere to the word of their superior? “Yet you seem keen to find our borders…again.”

OOc: I envision them dressed as gentlemen, slapping each other with white gloves...

“…not with the plant,” her word was impressed by a sudden lunge for that male. Her teeth were not bared with an intent to bite, yet her bulk was thrown forward in an effort to deter the male from his healing herbs. She cared little for what good it would do the Creek. The Vale had their own healer to supply, however damaged she might have been. They could not risk the stock nearest to them to be stripped by their audacious neighbors simply because it was for their benefit.

“You may leave with your life, but my generosity ends there,” her tail raised and flagged at its fullest height in defiance, daring the male to contest her offer. “You will not take another thing that is needed by more than your petty lot.”

A skirt of the paw, and the aroma of sage rose into the air to consume her nostrils. Immediately she recoiled from it, nose wrinkling bitterly as the strange scent assaulting the inner flesh with a vengeance and left her reeling. Were it not for the male before her, she might have relinquished her pride and bent her muzzle to hind underpaw. But instead she endured the aromatic presence with a twitch and darted her ears forward as he dared defy her.

“Speak ill of my brethren again,” she snapped the air between them. Her voice never ascended above a whisper. “-and the Creek will see you returned without your tongue.” Nevermind that he bared his insults toward her, she would not allow her brethren and mate to suffer the same. Too much strife had been cause between the neighboring packs to dare allow such a slight to cross the air without consequence. However, she would not allow herself to be called a liar. The very word bristled the fur of her nape and set her lips reeling back with rage. The fevered smile only stretching as her chords quaked with anger yet unleashed.

“We have again found the healer within our own ranks,” though she was tempted, she did not weigh her tongue with an insult. “…and it is for their stock that I protect this plant. If destruction came to it, then it was to keep your lot from attempting to take the full supply.” Admittedly, it was not the grandest plot on part of her mate. His anger had got the better of him that day, and while she had rather he left it be, he was a creature of his own mind doing what he believed would keep his brethren guarded. But it had only served to make them look petty. And now, with the injury that had fallen to the pack, what little they could find of any herb was needed. Better they have the herb and not need it, than be desperate for it and be without it.

Her eyes narrowed just had hard as they were fixed upon the elder male. “Leave them and go.” She growled finally. She did not expect one of the Creek to understand the desperation that had befallen the Vale.

It was the fault of her honest nature that she reveal more than need be; status of their healer as well as the necessity of the herbs. True, she did not know their purpose, but she had seen its likeness and others stored in the caches of their home. It must have been of some importance if was required to replenish their stock.

Her ears flicked back disdainfully then fanned forward as the slither of mirth that parted his aged lips. She grew tired of his bold tongue, and quite favored to see her threat come to fruition, yet she was compelled to remained still and listen rather than leap. The latter was more the way of her beloved, where it was her complement to him to assess, inquire and listen. And for once, she was glad she had taken to her usual manner than a more violent measure.

In turn, her lips curled with a sinister glimmer, unbecoming of her features but none the less called for by this fortuitous reveal on part of the male. “My healer…” she repeated more so in thought than as a means of clarification. “Our healer does not pass the decisions for the Vale. Only myself and the ‘black cur’, as you would like to call him.” Her tail lashed at her rear finding even the recitation of the insult unfavorable. Yet her bitterness for it was quickly overwrought by her sense of curiosity for what had been revealed. “…knowledge of plants and their uses…” Her eyes narrowed carefully, thoughtfully as she spoke. “…I am to assume then that you are a healer to the Creek?”

She had learned in her time as a wanderer how strange nature’s blessings could be. A frozen carcass, though its exterior was severely marred, still supplied the needed nourishment for those that took the initiative to excavate he preserved meat from frozen flesh.

Xi’nuata looked to this carcass now- though her lip still quivered in disgust at the sight of him- as the flesh diligently revealed, laid there to serve as a benefit. It must have been with reason that he returned to the borders of the Vale this day. The sage aside, she believed it was for more than that- but this she did not share.

“You will come with me then.” Her voice descend to a whisper, cold and hard as the eyes that bore into her so scornfully. Rather than wait for his compliance- or more appropriately assumed, his refusal- she marched toward him again, forgetting the sage underpaw. Her jaws parted but ferocity blunted by her lips downward drawn, she made to grab the elder male by his ivory scruff.