Cricket Creek Bog comme un boomerang

He was testing her, pushing her buttons, she was sure of it. Ever swift to leap to conclusions and judgements, Niamh's eyes reflected a flicker of light that mirrored a subtle change in her outlook. This male was mocking her- teasing her, and she didn't enjoy it, not from some stranger who was even joking about claiming the swamp bog as being his. The arrogant Regent, whose sense of humour was quite stiffened now, felt herself slipping into beligerence. Her fuse was only so long, after all. 

"Ain't mine neither," She replied curtly, with a snide look that might've indicated that she was insulted he'd think someone who looked as pretty as her might choose to claim a bog as her home. Her hunting grounds, sure- but not her home. His introduction was received with a slight nod of her head, but his comment after provoked a low growl. "Regent, of the Firebirds," She corrected haughtily, lifting one slightly muddied paw to gesture toward the line of trees in the distance. "We claim that copse." She indicated.