Hushed Willows unruhestifter

To say that the wolf who approached them was quite unusual was an understatement. Wylla supposed she matched her ethereal home with her sweeps of charcoal and white, with a face mask that might've reminded her a little of her own if she was self aware enough to realize it. Heterochromia wasn't a common feature in Wylla's life, either, so her gaze was drawn automatically to the mismatched white and lilac of Lumiya's. She averted her eyes respectfully, fully intending to play the part of polite guest for the first time... well, ever.

Then she practically choked when the woman introduced herself.

Queen of the gays? What the hell kind of title was that?! Unaware that she'd misheard Lumiya, Wylla took a second to swallow and compose herself so she didn't burst out laughing. Thank god Mahler was such a diplomat. If she'd come alone, she'd blow the whole operation in seconds. If she had heard correctly, she wouldn't be any less amused. Wylla, she said through a grin she couldn't hide. She hoped it would come off more like a warm smile and less like an effort to keep herself from blurting out the first crass thing that came to mind. Which, of course, pertained to how many "gays" Lumiya commanded and what they did in their free time.