Moonspear where has thout been through

The pale mercenary stayed light on her feet, ready to spring if pushed--either away, or in response--and warily eyeballed the wolf as she moved to recollect herself. What had she just bore witness to, exactly? For that moment, Opalia was speechless.. and relieved to not be on the receiving end of an unwarranted charge, but certainly, brewing a whole slew of questions. 

Carefully, now that apologies had begun, she took a small step closer as a signal of her attempt at trusting the truce. The guarded look didn't quite leave her, though. It's fine, she replied through a sigh-turned-huff, having splayed out her ears awkwardly now that the pressure seemed to be off. I mean, I am not against some friendly fire and all, but.. that was not the fight I expected to find, she elaborated. Evidently, it was not a fight for her and she was increasingly glad to have that case of mistaken identity past her. Who's Othello? You didn't seem too happy about them, she said, trying not to pry too blatantly and watching the dark wolfess keenly as she brought this up--this was still scarcely more than a stranger! But Opalia was just trying to move them past such an introduction as that.

Speaking of which, I'm Opalia, she provided, for something else to smooth it with.