Larksong Grotto Know not where I'm at, but know where I've been

The stranger, startled, swung around to look upon Durnehviir with sharp amber eyes. The tawny Frostfur took a swift step backward, claws clacking the stone beneath her, her own opalescent gaze never drifting from this unfamiliar wolfess. They stared at one another then, clearly uncertain of intentions, and the coarse guard hairs of the crimson-tipped Frostfur's nape lifted enough to display that she would not hesitate to defend herself if need be. 

Durnehviir was no fighter by choice, but Viinturuth had taught her the best he could. Usually, she relied on her silver tongue and peaceful approach to douse heater situations she found herself in, but sometimes physical force was necessary. It was not the case this time, however, as the obsidian female offered a blunt greeting and remained in place with no hostility. 

Durnehviir relaxed somewhat, though still remained Southborough on edge. She made no move to close distance between them, opting instead of ease any tension by giving a friendly wave of her feathery tail. "I'm Durnehviir," she said with a curious cant of a red lobe. "Are you alright?"