Blackbeak Bluff La femme à la perruche

Maude pulled back the wolf quickly — wait why the hell was she being a hero? She was a damned pirate! But whatever pushed her to do it the ragged wench succeeded, pulling the pale wolf away from the cliffs' edge and deeper into solid, uninterrupted ground. Maude curled her lip at the wolf's little smile, unaware of their true meaning. What was he being all cocky for? She just saved his life and he was smiling like an buffoon?

Her ears flickered at the slightly unintelligible and foreign accent. The shores brought a lot of those but not one like this. It was vaguely...ah what was it...French? but not quite. But as the words' meaning began to make sense to her, Maude began cackling with mirth at his reasoning for his near fall. Beautiful? She giggled with glee at the thought. He thought she was beautiful? She wasn't flattered nor offended; merely amused at the thought that someone thought her attractive. Wot kind o' drugs 'ave ye been takin' mate? It's yer duty t'save"beautiful women?" Wot is this, sum kind a' fairy tale? Shit mate. Ye tried t'save t'wrong wench. I'm ugly as sin. She smiled, flashing him her crooked yellowed teeth, the baring of her fangs enhancing the madness that always lingered in her eyes.