Raven's Watch You slept on a feather bed, I slept on the floor.

I am sorry Raleska is such a b

Typical. Raleska had (politely in her opinion) invited the northerner to shove off, and instead of accepting her gracious invitation, he stood there and corrected Bridget.

She had half a mind to lunge for him as a sigh expelled from his body. It was a mistake letting his guard down - her needling eyes were all over him, studying, looking for any sort of hidden vantage writ in the stories of his pelt; the way his fur parted, any scar, the subtle way a limb or posture was held.

The other option was leaving. Nothing told a man that a woman was flat out disinterested by departing without a word. Many a man's ego had been shattered by that kind of maneuver, but Raleska hated the idea of giving this wolf any ground. They were here first -- he could make like a gull and piss off.

A shared glance to Bridget to measure her impression, eyes glazed with gloat as Bridget followed her barb in suit. Nice.

Raleska wondered if next, this textbook male would start to interrupt them as they spoke, or if he would start waxing poetic at the top of his lungs about how their impression was wrong and blah blah blah...

She'd had enough of that. Bridget had given her enough information to piece together (incorrectly or not) that this man's wolf had assailed her at some point.

Raleska began to crouch, simmering gaze hungrily holding the man who if he was smart, would start running.