Dragoncrest Cliffs I put my hands in the fire

Gift her the patience to handle the moods for children, for Rosalyn was not, by nature, a patient wolf.

Chacal ignored her with a studious attention and, after a stretch of time, it became clear she had no intentions towards voicing (even with a look) the ire she'd shown on the cliffs the other day.  Rosalyn felt her frustration prickle, and it only worsened when Valravn... cheerful Val... stepped past and settled in to do the same with nothing but a disrespectfully heated glance.

Rosalyn's pelt prickled and her ears tucked back as she turned her good eye to burn first into one, then the other.... and a low growl of disappointment uttered from her gut.  She'd expected better of the both of them.

If you wish to still be children, then by all means, keep ignoring me.  She said, a bit of a biting edge to her tone, overlaid with heavy disapproval.  She eyed them both.  But I cannot fix what I do not know, and right now, I see no reason for this.  In truth, their rebuff hurt.  As did their seeming unwillingness to speak with her, in any capacity, about the source of the upset.  It drug claws along an old wound, a pattern she'd hoped not to see surface again, yet one she seemed destined never to avoid.