Stavanger Bay harsher times than these

The woman let out a sharp squeal of admonishment as she skipped back several feet, the wolf seeming to turn on her. Fear did not touch her; not for this, but she looked on with pouty disapproval as the dark creature bristled at her and shouted more strange words in his dulcet tones.

I tire of this, she thought to herself, now imagining that it was she who had witheld affections. She would not be gracing the village fool with anything.

"Basura," she repeated to herself, shooting the male one last burning glare before strutting away. Her steps were slow and lingering as she showed how very little she was affected by both his apparent rejection and subsequent shouting. Going so far as to fully turn her back on the wolf, she paused to examine the few drops of blood and fish scales that remained of her meal before picking her way delicately forward.

She's kind of slowly ambling away; not gone yet if you want to keep going.