Blackfoot Forest fascinating

praimfaya hears the footfalls upon the damp bracken that covers the forest floor even before she spots the other woman; draped in a pelage of downy snow white and accented with unusual ( to praimfaya ) black markings. frostbound gaze watches with the familiar caution she extends towards all strangers, though the wanheda is plenty capable enough of holding her own in a fight. keeping herself safe wasn't an issue, but still she is not as trusting as she once was.

praimfaya's body shifts so she faces the stranger, ears cupping forth atop her skull as the woman speaks to her; words foreign. a bird-like tilt to praimfaya's head is given knowing that the strange verse in which the woman speaks is neither common nor trigedasleng. hello. praimfaya calls out tentatively, in common, hoping that they might share that middle ground.