Grouse Thicket Lions in the wild

She's wary because she knows drifters can be unpredictable in the most amicable of circumstances. It's not uncommon for her species to disperse, to seek out some fresh blood to settle down, an instinct that's coded in their DNA to keep their genetics diverse. But there's always a risk that one'll be unhinged, unfit for pack life and therefore an outcast. Perhaps a disease of the body, or perhaps of the mind. So, Cypher's careful when she comes across folks like herself, though she's quick to trust if there's no obvious reason not to.

Cannibal. She feels a wave of digust, then rage. For a wolf to sink so low, to eat one of their own kind— Cypher doesn't think she'll ever be hungry enough for that. But this guy.

His gutteral snarl gives her enough warning to prepare, though she knows there's no use in running. He'd just chase her down as though she were no more than a young buck, and she's got too much pride to go down like that. Cypher holds her ground as he approached, her own tail and hackles raising in defense. She's showing her teeth, loosing decidedly wolfish snarls and growls, warning him to back off. He might kill her, but she'd fuck him up so it wouldn't be very long before she greeted him in the afterlife.