Swiftcurrent Creek crack baby, you don't know what you want

Ah, of course. One of the newbies. And not just any newbie, but a little golden girl with a smart mouth.
As if being the smartass wasn't Wren's job.
She comes back to the ground in a great big thump, tail swishing behind her in agitation. She takes a long look at the young woman; a limp to her gait, a cobweb of scars covering her limbs. A frail little thing. Wren felt herself akin to a bear next to her.
I'm training, she chuffs, tongue passing over her upper lip. yah got any better ideas? You look like you could use some muscle yourself, there, beanpole. A strong gust of wind could make you disintegrate into a pile a' bones.