Mississippi Queen (M)

The woman's words caused Tonravik to bristle. It was entirely because she did not know what she meant, and jumped to the conclusion that the other might be speaking of her joining a pack. She suddenly sensed that she had walked into something rather than nothing. The air was heavy only when Kapvik stammered. She was no genius, but she could be perceptive... and by now, she knew Kapvik well enough to understand that he was no longer in his comfort zone.

Her dark eyes then kept to the lone wolf as her subordinate came toward her, emotions imperceptible upon the features set in their natural grimace. There was a distinct lack of amusement there, as she lifted her lip disparagingly toward the other. Tonravik was not a jovial woman herself... and the things she managed to find amusing others seemed to not. The prattling of her subordinate had ended, and here was Kapvik before her.

Tonravik gestured toward the Spine with her muzzle. He was correct, she was here for a reason—a reason he would come to know—but she would speak nothing of it before the stranger. Her eyes still lingered upon the vixen before them both, licking her chops. However her words were meant, Tonravik had no appreciation for them. They were both taken the wrong way, and lost on her. Kapvik would find there were worse things than blue balls... for instance, having no family jewels at all.