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The wolves accompanying her only grew more strange by the moment, but the shift in language did not appear to bother Salamander. She hadn't heard this language before, she could not translate any piece of it, but she saw this shift in use as more than just a simple conversation between pack mates - she saw it as a potential scare tactic. If these two ladies thought that speaking in tongues would frighten her away (or in any manner really unnerve her), it wasn't going to work. She smirked as she pulled her head up from its diminutive position, licking her lips and casually watching Echelon and then the Alpha. And then the Alpha's attention turned to her; using a collection of sounds to identify her with (which made Salamander wonder, "What the hell did you just call me?" but she sat comfortably within her ignorance).

"What good are you." The woman voiced, this time in a language Salamander could understand. It was a good question, but she answered it with a bit of chuckling, first and foremost. Followed by a roll of her big shoulders.

"I'm a warrior. You have a word for that in your language, right?" It wasn't a good idea to poke a bear with a stick. Salamander's voice was the equivalent of a reaching branch, filled with pride and humor, which struck out towards Tonravik. Before an answer could be given to that question, Salamander added, "You want something dead, I can make that happen. My specialty is any fool stupid enough to cross me - but I'll bring down anything you want." Unless it was small and fast, like a rabbit, but Salamander wouldn't reveal this lapse in her abilities for a few more hours.