The Tangle I said somebody's been shot, somebody's been abused

there was a man near their claim. a greyish man, a loud man, one who wore the stamp of wolf and coyote combined.
bearing in mind her talk with sobeille, chani was nevertheless annoyed to find him so close. a genetic frustration, or perhaps the feminine territoriality encouraged by her older relatives — whatever else drove chani out gave her an edge to the oxide eyes she carried, courtesy of grandmaman rosalyn.
behind him she moved, a wraith in the grapevine thornweald that guarded sapphique.
and when he whirled, chani held her breath, seeing a pretty shade of sea-blue in his face.
but it was chacal's expression she wore when she slithered gracefully from the briars, aloof with a gilded coolness.
and it was mireille's dry voice that spoke. "do you often be shoutin' swears into de void outside someone's door?" chani demanded, chin raised in haughty judgement.