Dragoncrest Cliffs sheidgeda

She did not know what was said to her, but the way in which is was spoken made Seregryn's ire grow tenfold; then, when the stranger switched back to the language of warriors, things really got heated. It was one thing to be denied entry by a foreigner — it was another thing entirely to be labeled as an outsider by someone such as this.

If Atsula tried to stop her, she did not notice. Seregryn heard that singular word and something tipped in her mind. Her lip twitched subtly, and her fur spiked all over. The time among the wolves of Trigeda had been peaceful for the most part, filled with lessons on diplomacy and politics, with some attention to her skills in battle — but Seregryn threw out all of that. She gathered up all of her shit and tossed it out of her mind when her anger took full hold of her.

The fos goufa did not think, she only reacted. This stranger did not look fit to be a warrior to begin with, she was soft and plush like a well groomed doll, and she was young, as Seregryn was. There was no chance in the warrior-girl's mind that Emaleth would win in a battle against her -- so she lunged, hard and fast. But she was caught by surprise when the guard tossed back her head and called out to her pack. She faltered for a split-second before plunging ahead with her teeth shining, aiming for some part of the true outsider, intent on making her power known.

Emaleth would move, whether she wished to or not.