Blackbeak Bluff and when you wanted blood, i cut my veins

there were few things caiaphas enjoyed in life; none so sweet as witnessing a man's face crumple. she was remorseless, that much was true -- and vercingetorix undeserving of the keen lash of her tongue. she hadn't thought she said much to cut him, but men were all individuals -- some hardly more sturdy than the spine of a rotted fish.

she knew she knew that language -- yet, it would be a while before she placed it. her eyes seemed to sharpen, as if narrowing down on something far out of her focus.

as he glanced past her to the cliffs, she followed his gaze -- wondering if he was sharing secret glances with wolves unknown to her. from what she could tell of the scents on his pelt, he was at least a man of some company.

as far as his questions... "thought what?" she piped up sharply, a blink eclipsing the harsh yellow of her eyes. if he was new around these parts, what was with the various scents that clung to his pelt? she remained distrusting. "i don't live around here." and then, switching tactics: "if you're new, is your pack new too?"