The Floodlands Flood

It was clear that her question had insulted the femme, and yet even the lady defended what was hers with a more gentle approach. Feyre brushed past the fae's final words, a glimmer of distaste growing in the back of her jowls. Her plumage flickered once, the only outwards sign of her dislike. The other woman spoke to her as if she did not understand how finding a carcass in the blistering cold worked. Feyre's gold-flecked optics narrowed ever so slightly. Perhaps she had not spoken to many in this territory, perhaps she had yet to fight over a kill. The thought encouraged Feyre to let the matter go.

Feyre's head released its tilted position, opting for semetry instead. Her ivory pelt glimmered in the sun, stark against the crimson stain flowing down her maw. "Why of course, I was simply... checking on something." Her head bobbed slightly, a slow grin overtaking her visage. "What brought you here?" A pause. "Apologies, your name?" The fae backtracked with her inquery.