Ouroboros Spine These drums and hard snares bring out the worst in me

It was hard to judge expressions from a distance, especially with her eyes now squinted, though she supposed the stranger looked a little perplexed by her outburst. Her head still ached, so Quell said nothing as the other she-wolf ventured closer. She looked a little baffled, indeed, plus cautiously curious. As the pain began to subside, Q licked her lips and opened her eyes further, mouth opening to say something clever...

A sharp voice cut through the quiet before either one of them could speak. Quell turned to glance at the pale figure standing nearby, her very demeanor so demanding, then looked back to Frolic's would-be killer even as she spoke an answer. Ghostly pale eyes shot to her in a pointed glance, though Q noted she didn't look too agitated about it; there was actually a smirk playing about her mouth.

"Shit, my b," Q finally got a word in edgewise, "it's my Tourette's. Makes me spout off random nonsense sometimes." She flapped a paw in the air. "I saved you from an absolutely terrible lunch," she went on to say, "otters taste just how they look: like giant, floppy wieners." Pause. "Shitdamncrap!"

Clearing her throat, Quell swept her gaze back and forth between her two new companions and said, "Anywho, my name's Q. Who are you? Fargjeckyl." Was she overselling it? Maybe. Would they know any better? Probably not.