Haunted Wood we set fires in the snow.

anger, short and quick. not at his prod at her state, but at him. "my challenge was never personal. you made it that way, not me." she snaps, gimlet stare set on his. her tail remains even, stance easy, as if she is greeting an equal; this is not about a superior proving rank, but a personal disagreement she seeks to rectify now, before it decays any further. she'd been quite alright with brooding before she's fought Vengeance, but not anymore; not when brooding, anger, can just as quickly turn to a hateful challenge. gaze searches him, seeking that fragment of closeness they'd once shared; the grouse hunt, that day in the snow before it'd gone so very wrong. she is not vengeance, and amidst all the tensions, she can not deny her desire for a friend.