Lost Creek Hollow time to sink way into the blue, dear

Treason was just Treason.  She existed, and if wolves couldn't bother to get past the fact she always looked dour, they probably weren't going to like her presence much.  Some day, Treason would have to learn what charisma was.  It would probably be to her advantage, but as it were, brute force had lead her along her life path pretty well on its own.  So why change?

In truth, she didn't have too much of an opinion of the new arrivals.  They also existed.  They had far too many children.  Beyond that, the only other noteworthy wolf was Stigmata and his little speech had painted him a fool in her eyes.  She didn't know what he wanted but the way he was going about it seemed counter to logic.  He didn't want to deal with new leaders because it was nearing winter?  Whatever.  If he stayed stupid, he could freeze for all she cared.

Back to the matter at hand, the pale devil dipped her head, I'm Treason.  She'd try to do her leaderly duties, even if they were counter to her base nature as a quasi-hermit.  Are you settling in despite... Pause.  What would you even call what had happened?  What would you call it without drawing too much attention to it, as if she wanted to commiserate about it?  Despite recent events?  She was not particularly creative about this kind of thing.  Ask her to think up an insult, she could craft something that matched the person, but this kind of stuff didn't strike her fancy.