The Tangle Blame it all on yourself

She only had a few moments to observe, before she saw the pale girl stiffen and draw her head up sharply. She'd thought the scent of the weasel's blood might obscure her own scent, but she'd guessed wrong. Here in the Tangle, the air was close and still; it didn't shift in such a way that might favour her position. She would have to keep that in mind the next time she came to the place. 

Something was snarled, but she didn't understand the words. The meaning, however, was fairly clear. It was a demand, and with narrowed pupils, the wild look spread through the lilac of her irises. 

Lilia stood, and moved from her cover. She kept her posture neutral, though her gaze was watchful. She'd memorized some of the pathways through the Tangle- maybe, if she had to make a run for it...She might not be able to outpace the lean wolf, but she might be able to out-maneuver her. 

"I don't mean no hawm," She said. "Wath just here, before you. Din' mean to dithturb you."