Blackfeather Woods At war with the sun

As her sandy colored packmate approached her, she noticed that there was a limp in her step. Nemesis's eyes wandered to the girl's leg, wrapped in an assortment of blood, leaves and other greenery. Something in her mind smirked at Cyn's misfortune, but she quickly cleared the prospect of it. Perhaps she had come into contact with another hostile, or simply injured herself by accident. As far as she knew, Cyn didn't seem to be the one to purposely attack another. 
Voicing her opinions she commented almost smugly. "What happened to you?", she asked teasingly.
She stalked over to the female, her hostility was forgotten. And so was Cyn's, apparently. Unlike the last time they had met, threats had been made and blood almost shed. Perhaps they could be civilized, but the thought seemed distant in her mind, as if the idea of greeting each other without the cold glares or obnoxious attitude would be boring. In fact, her relationship with almost all of Blackfeather was in a way toxic, much like the land around them.