Blackfeather Woods No rest for the weary

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The outline of a peculiar looking fox made her raise her head completely. Though, prowling closer to the stranger, she realised it was not a fox at all. Rather, one of the new arrivals. Unlike the other one, this presence was quiet, leading her to speculate what she wanted. The female was much smaller than she had ever encountered before, yet she did not any lower guards based on body type. Sometimes, quiet was violent. 

Walking straight up to the stranger, she held a critical eye. It was unlike her to become instantly friendly to just anyone, and due to the new changes, she was yet to see if the female would even survive in the dark woods. But, her cold nature was something that was carved deep into her soul, and could not be simply rubbed off overnight. Her stance presumed influence, and the mark on her shoulder was not to be missed. Not that she ever liked to flaunt it, but she was interested to see the strangers reaction to superiority. Some had little to no respect, and she didn't cooperate well with those who didn't.