Ouroboros Spine ii. and leave them

The fawn flinched as her head turned towards the dark man who suddenly rushed onto the scene -- drawing from the shadows and her peripherals alike. Her steps faltered backwards a pace, ears flattening slightly as her hackles raised with a spike of fear for the wren assumed him to be lunging forward in a vicious move. Perhaps Sialuk had not mentioned her rather new presence and he was territorial of his clan mates' claim. 

When the nightwolf halted and rumbled a low query in her direction, Lótë forced her pelt to smooth its defensive prickling. Her tawny auds pressing lower as she dropped her head in submission, tongue rasping along her chops. 

"Perhaps. If the spirits favor me. Kukutux has set me to task tracking the herds," she answered without hesitation, spring gaze falling from his own curious orbs of hardwood and amber as she lilts the words with whispering diffidence. 


She's uncertain -- a bit perplexed by his intense, unwelcoming behavior. Her weight moves from one side of her body to the other, paws shifting as her eyes flicker to the side with ears still splayed. Wishing she could just flee the odd confrontation.