Iktome Plains And cut and peeled a hazel wand

She lowered her posture, showing the other that she meant no threat— though her mismatched gaze was locked upon the she-wolf before her, fearless but wary, and perhaps a small bit defiant. Emaleth had been a sheltered child and despite her brief exile from Donnelaith, the forest had been and still was her world. Strangers were alien to her, and stepping out from her shelter was like leaving a pleasant dream. She was not a social creature to begin with, and foreign wolves seemed something different than herself. Less real.

Emaleth lifted her head, eyes furrowing slightly at the paler woman's words. "That was not my intention."

It was the opposite intention, of course— to smooth any fears away— and Emaleth wondered if this whole world was backwards. As if she had stepped into a reflection of the world, and she marveled at the thought. It had not felt this way when she had left the Wilds; but then, she had taken utmost care to avoid the presence of others.

Her eyes wandered as the bear shuffled in response to their voices, and she watched it for a moment. It seemed to have no interest in them, and so she refocused her attention upon the shaken female. "Are you alright?" she queried, concern laced in her voice despite her effort to remain aloof. Emaleth was a healer, after all, though perhaps not quite so pious as her sister. Life was sacred, though some lives were more odd than others.