Cedar Sweep i was born a shot-gun in my hands

The ivory fae nodded slightly, taking his words to be the closest to an apology he may ever utter. Her gaze relented from their slanted position, but remained trained on the dark figure before her. A pause, her gaze searching - for what? She did not know. She worked her jaw. This wolf was a tough nut to crack. Cold but still respectful, threatening but not malicious. She was certain now that he was the brother of the other yearling, even if their personalities varied. His scent smelled similar to that of the innocent Tapat, indicating their relation. Her head tilted ever so slightly, her tail still crowning behind her. "I do suppose then that I should leave." He was not much for conversation so it seemed, and she was not for idle sitting.