The Heartwood I'm so Used to Being In The Wrong

Atka blinked, she wasn't unaware of her size, surely the wolf knew that. Embarrassment burned hot through her as she angled her head away, eyes narrowed, but she wasn't about to test this stranger.

What's your stance on violence, Snow?

Murder? Debauchery?

Atka's ears folded back down as he spoke, his words felt almost teasing, plenty of assumptions could be made just looking at her, she knew this. She contemplated many different ways to respond, eyes flitting around while she thought.

❝Hm,❞ Was the only noise that left her mouth, she side-eyed him to read his expression while she spoke, ❝My stance?❞

Atka shifted, turning her head slightly but still keeping it low.

❝When it comes to protecting what I have, or love, I have no complaints.❞ She responded with a serious tone. ❝I know by glancing at me you'd have your doubts, but I have teeth I can use, I'm quick, agile.❞ 

She emphasized her last words, her confidence was false, but it wasn't an easy facade to see through. If the large wolf threatened her, she'd probably run, take her chances, she wasn't about to carry herself with an injury alone. The imaginable injury probably having a sizeable impact to her, considering his size. She wondered what these other wolves would be like, part of her feared they'd all have the same nature, her temperament incredibly different. Though if her success with others depended on it, she could put up a reserved, snappy front. Atka had dispersed from her previous, familial pack, due to discontentment with her relations, their cruel ways, and death, but her luck on her own had proven little. Maybe this was how it was meant to be for her.