The Floodlands The driving force of nature

She arrived beside her lady, expression cool and indifferent, her gait a proud walk. The Warlord remembered well the fake name she had given for herself, and those she was instructed to give, so chances of a slip were minimal. She halted as her lady did, silent, and yet her eyes were on the other, very probably the alpha she had never gotten to meet. Her coat was still damp, but she did not mind, her proud stance beside her Lady made up for that as she surveyed the other, no trace of her thoughts evident in her expression. She would let her Lady do the talking, for the most part. "Alpha Spring, I presume. Greetings."