Larksong Grotto We let the waters rise

Damaris watched as a woman, a brown agouti with a stern face, appeared with a growl. The white girl's ears flattened slightly in surprise, wondering what offense she had commited. Her shoulder dipped in submission, head bowed enough that she wouldn't be seen as challenging even if this woman was much larger.

Oh. That. Damaris nodded as if to herself, realizing she was a tad too close for comfort. The albino shifted one haunch comically, followed by the other as she remained sitting. Damaris repeated the process until she had scooted backwards several feet. 

Figuring that was far enough to be safe but not so far as to strain when she spoke, Damaris paused and glanced up to hear the second part of the woman's speech. "To join," she blinks slowly, just managing to keep the 'duh' tone from her voice. That wouldn't be very respectful of her at all.

"I'm uh, not much of a fighter, though I can hunt rather well and I'm a swell tracker," she tacks on with an enthusiastic tone, realizing that her comment might still be a bit rude. "Besides that I know a bit of healing though I wouldn't consider myself proficient in it," this admonition is a bit lacking, grimacing as she says it. Perhaps it will earn Damaris some brownie points if she can heal, no matter how rudimentary her skill is.