Hideaway Strath Don't you know I'm no good for you?

Whrist kept her eyes on the captive named Simmik not taking them off her for a moment even as she was reprimanded by her Overseer. The words sliding off her like water from a duck’s back she hadn’t been sure of the plans for the captive but her ploy had worked she had gotten a reaction from it, where the Overseer had not and a haughty grin spread over her lips as the white wolfs hackles raised then the captive spoke and her good mood soured

Whrist’s snorted at the captive’s outburst,  and spat a foreign  word “ingigit” and rolled her eyes more at herself then at the captive; though the wolves around her might think it was directed at the captive. All these nasty damed white wolves where sending her back a puphood best left forgotten. Perhaps she should brush up on the skills she had learned because of them and practice somemore.  Whrist drew in a sharp breath these thoughts having flitted through her head instantly.
Quickly she corrected her mistake, snarling the words “Sit down” at the captive
She then continued harshly keeping her eyes locked on the Simmik “You have no say here, we can do with you what we wish. Especially the Overseer and Grandmaster, and if you are trash not worthy of even pup bearing then you are truly nothing!”  

The black wolf flicked an ear toward her Overseer, and she quirked the corner of her lips up in a smile showing him she had meant only to bug the captive with her remark “No Disrespect my Overseer, then why is she here? Pack politics? Fun?” She continued the conversation as if she hadn’t been interrupted and again as if the captive was nothing more then a piece of meat to be talked over but not to. In truth she hoped to bait the captive see how far she could push her.