Moonspear Dreamland, I need you

She followed, close and quiet and she scanned their surroundings. From what she had heard from Mal about Monnspear, she half expected them to jump out at any moment and start something, so she had been on high alert from the second Mal had picked up on their scent. She nodded as he spoke, explaining to her once more to be aware and that he had a plan if things went sour. Got it, she assured him, pairing her answer with a quick nod. She would let him lead the interaction and try really hard not to let her pride or her temper get the best of her.

It didn't take long to reach the borders, and she stopped next to Mal, her citrine gaze scanning the the area in front of them as his howl echoed through the winter air. Her heart rate increased some in her chest; she couldn't help but be a little nervous, but she was careful to keep the feeling from her face and posture. Instead, she would meet whoever answered the call with a stoic expression, a shrewd gaze, and an assertive but relaxed posture. The last thing she wanted was to start something and make Mal regret letting her accompany him here, nor did she want to appear weak to the wolves of Moonspear. It was a delicate balance, and Simmik hoped she could keep it up.