Sleeping Dragon ai trikracha

Seregryn was afforded a certain degree of power - or something similar - by virtue of being a fos goufa. This did not remedy her behavior nor make room for it, but in the girl's mind, she was safe from the scrutiny and ensuing back-lash that others of her age or position might receive. It was the entire reason for her narcissism, and the clipped way in which she communicated with others. Aside from her aunt, Seregryn spoke little to the members of the pack -- beyond being new among the fold, she simply saw herself as above them, and the bear before her was no different. With her injury it seemed obvious to her that she needed tending, and had this happened within Trigeda, someone would have aided her by now. This place lacked reaction. It did not help that Seregryn had hidden herself away after the rendezvous along the riverside either -- but that fact slipped her mind.

All she was faced with now, was insubordination. The woman did not accept the command or act upon it, but rather she fought back with posture and attitude which Sere was not accustomed to. Even Gavriel, her older and more experienced uncle, bowed to her will. This beast of a woman was outright refusing, and Seregryn did not know how to handle it. She stared, stunned, at first. Her first thought was to bare her fangs and her lips lifted, quivering, to expose her pearly canines -- but there wasn't much insistence behind her expression. Instead of snarling and making demands, the grimace became a yawn, and then as her mouth snapped shut she looked away -- deferring awkwardly to the whims of the bristling darkness before her.

Seregryn muttered, sounding more like a scolded child, under her breath: ... Please.