Sun Mote Copse It's going down, fade to Blackstreet

arunik'ra's lip curled as the wolf turned to face her, realizing he was not alone. her expression remained somewhat veiled - there was a faint hint of both bemusement and scorn tracing her lips, though neither seemed to overpower the other. she had not expected him to grovel -- and when he claimed he was here on a vision she rocked back on her heels and regarded him coldly.

she could not tell if he was serious, or if he was mocking her -- or even if he was lying. the jumbled, rushed manner in which he presented his story made her inclined to believe it was the latter, but she was not an impulsive creature by nature.

instead, she planned to test him -- and her resolve was strengthened by ragna's approach. arunik'ra gave the shieldmaiden a warm smile, motioning with a faint dip of her head that she was grateful for the support. she turned her gaze back to sullivan, her ears pressed forward in interest. "spirits?" she inquired as if in awe of the mystique and not a practitioner of it -- "are you a seer then? or some attuned vessel?" sullivan may not have known it, but arunik'ra had the horrible habit of playing with her food -- even when it was alive.