Broken Antler Fen rootbeer popsicle

Ambrosia was patrolling the borders and off in her own little world, only barely paying attention. Her lemon eyes  were on the clouds until the scent of a male tickled her nose. Her tail raised and her hackles puffed out as she hurried towards the scent. It wasn't long before she came into sight of a male of various reds and browns and blacks and cream. He was walking away, but the tawny female chuffed in a neutral greeting. 
              "Can I help you?"
Her voice, too, was neutral, but laced with curiosity and withheld dominance. Unless this male was a threat, there was no need to be dominant or aggressive. She wasn't alpha, after all, but still felt entitled to show her rank here. She was the Delta, part of the middle tier and the second highest ranking below Alpha and Beta. It made her feel good to protect and make herself known, but its not like she was really in CHARGE.