Stavanger Bay Warpless

There really couldn't be many wolves in his pack, could there?  Obviously whatever she'd come across hadn't seemed like much of a border to her.  Maybe she'd just found a thin spot.  Whatever.  More the issue, how odd that this guy didn't understand what was obviously such an ordinary, obvious thing as necromancers!

The first thing she had to comment on actually caused her to respond with a bit of humor, 'Old,' uh huh.  She still wasn't quite sure what a pirate was, but she was definitely sure this dude couldn't be too much older than her, if that.  Godot pulled herself to her feet, gently shaking what snow stuck to her pelt, as if this dude really was treating it like a pack land, Godot was going to shortly see if she could subtly sashay on back to whatever "borders" there were before he decided to try and eat her.  So, she'd try to be a little bit playful or friendly or something -- at least until the next subject.

You haven't been by their pack then?  Her ears flicked forward, as if in awe that he'd not managed to see that blight.  I came from the east, and one of the packs I went by was just... Ugh.  Who else would decorate their borders with the dead other than people who worship death?  I bet if you walked around their territory they'd be trying to bring some old god back from the dead or revive dead packmates or something.  She shivered a bit at the thought.  Definitely not her thing.  You didn't mess with death like that.  It'd be too easy for it to turn around and bite you, at least from her eyes.  Either way, they are certainly not normal, she sniffed.  Quite silly considering Godot was the one saying it.  Despite the possibility she might just come off as being some innocent girl freaked out by the weirdos in the world, but Godot was definitely living in her own reality.