Hoshor Plains yo get out my bidness

Soon the scent of whoever was roaming around the flatlands was revealed; a black fae around the same size as Jhala. To the agouti black girl, there was nothing special about this woman. She smelled of a pack, but she was unaware of what pack she was from. Quite honestly, if you informed her that she was from the 'Brotherhood', she'd probably just scoff and say 'but dude she's a girl'. So, regardless of who this wolfess was, the yearling honestly had no respect for her as of right now. 

The red paw on her shoulder? Looked to her like an uncreative tattoo artist got a hold of her. Nothing of interest and nothing worth fearing.

She was not as stupid as some to go to approach the woman with hopes of friendship, but also knew not the immediately start fights with everyone she met. She was an even balance with a shorter temper, sort of. So Jhala just stood, head lowered and fur fluffed out in warning to stay the fuck away or just be friendly. She really didn't have time to nurse wounds, and for all she knew this black wolf could be from the fucking militia... or something. The younger Porcupine wolf was strong and skilled but not that skilled.