Deepwood Weald Fell for these Ocean Eyes

the instincts endowed upon the girl are not particularly strong, but the woman before her manages to send off a few alarm bells. her scratching comes to abrupt end, although little shifts and twitches are still to be noticed as she fidgets. there is a long moment between the end of the woman's sentence and the rasp of her own voice, in which she decides she does not like the woman before her. "-per -- perhaps you should die." she suggests, voice hoarse, as she lurches to her paws, edging away as she searches once more for a clear path through the weald, away from here.