Dragoncrest Cliffs Tangie

He was much like his family in nature- honest, but not so weak in constitution as to grovel. An apology was all he could offer, and she watched him with a simmering gaze. The growl in her throat continued at a rolling boil. She was a dagger, sheathed only because to be drawn would mean spilling her own blood. He wouldn't know how lucky he was. 

He turned, and she spat in his direction as he left. Under her breath, she muttered a soft string of melodic curses; willing for nature to exact spite she herself could not, before she left a new, yellow marking in the snow and sauntered off toward the cliffs.