Gyrfalcon's Keep damn birds.

It's fine! And thank you! <3

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After several more irritation-filled paces, the brutish woman became vaguely aware of another's presense, causing her to slow to a stop and turn to face the creature's direction. The hell spawn birds didn't seem all too happy about her stopping to linger, their squaks and screeches having considerably heightened nearby to signal their distaste, but she paid them no heed aside from a sneer. The stranger before her was much more interesting. Or maybe just less annoying. Either way, a welcome distraction from the flying pests, if not a curious one.

The approacher had undoubtfully feminine features, complete with the sweet, wafting scent that all woman (even a burly one such as Brunhilde) carried. Yet her body was larger than the traditional females of Brun's homeland, berring a height similar to her own, and the charcoal woman's fluffy pelage made it impossible to dictact just how much musculature she carried. An interesting specimen, and she certainly held the beast's attention for daring to break the mold of her childhood society, not appearing like the small, dainty flower her people said women were supposed to be. For that reason, and partially out of natural apathy, Brun did not glower or growl when the woman drew nearer, instead fixing the other with her casual look of laid-back neutrality

Then, however, the woman spoke, and the intrigue surrounding her appearance seemed to evaporate.

"Huh?" Gruffed the bear in a monotonous and slightly confused voice, her brows just faintly pinching together. What the hell did those words even mean? Rakeet? Kinda sounded like a sneeze. Comrade...? That one sounded a little, tiny bit familiar, but its meaning was still lost to the burly woman, especially when paired with the first term. Ugh. Confusing foreign language. 

Before she could make heads or tails of what the woman was trying to say, a nearby falcon had seemingly lost its patience, the crazed bird having decided to swoop upon the females again, blindly aiming for the area between their faces with its talons outstretched. Now involved in a conversation (sort of) and quite frankly too lazy to pull another duck-and-roll maneuver, the brute mearly threw her front half to the ground in a crouch and willed the bird to pass. Her good eye burned intesnely into the creature's form, and once she was out of talon range, she quickly lunged back up to all fours and attempted to snap at the bird, alllmost catching its tailfeaters, but not quite. With that incidental moment of terror over, her gaze found the stranger again and all anger/annoyance was gone from her features, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. For this place, it hadn't.

"Who're you," came her husky bark, figuring there was no use in deciphering what the other had said, so she'd just use her own words, words she understood.
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