Kintla Flatlands The Judge

The other crept closer, not breaking the chain of their latched gazes. This was admirable- this femme walked with confidence. Perhaps a little too much. Her walk was loose, careless, a sneer played on her maw. Aeronwyn approached with a few strides, face pulled into a mask of indifference. She had a desire to immedietly set upon this female, fangs flashing, but restrained herself. Silence, the absence of emotion, was sometimes more intimidating than a snarl of growl. Her stalking gait halted abruptly a couple of meters away from the female, icey orbs not leaving the woman's green ones. 

The aroma of pack was on her fur, but it was not one that Aeronwyn recognized. She had explored quite a bit to the east and south, but not yet the mountains. The pack scent was not one in the vicinity of the Brotherhood, leading Aeronwyn to the conclusion that the female was a traveller of some kind, perhaps. 

Aeronwyn stood, eyeing the female and waiting for her to speak of move. She hoped it was the latter, for a chance to fight was exactly what the brooding woman was searching for. Would this female prove not to be aggressive, Aeronwyn would simply push her like the other one, the arrogant girl by the mountain, and wait for her to snap.