green is not a creative colour

Robur seemed to conclude his introduction and subsequent session of amusement with a plea for credit, which lifted Jinx's face into a smile, albeit one that seemed sinister on her. Everything seemed sinister with her, no matters its intent; there was something about her eyes, the way they caught and held with intent focus and persuasion, that made everything she did feel... Well, "evil". Jinx wasn't "evil", no more than any other wolf was "good", but that wasn't to say she wasn't immoral.

Granted, she replied, letting her ears drop to the sides of her head as she gave him the credit and title he seemed to long for. We may be... Mmn, friends. There was nothing wrong with having friends, of course, and once Jinx had had many. Now, she kept more to herself, displeased with the small talk others made in farcical attempts at civility. Jinx was a wolf and cared about wolf things: interesting scents worn on the fur, the state of boundaries and outsiders, prey, and other such concerns. She had never been particularly fond of talking about clouds and flowers and other empty fluff.

Robur, at least, had mostly avoided fluff. He had brought up two of the most unsavoury wolves in Jinx's personal contacts, which did ease her mind, somewhat. Allow me to escort you back to your Alpha, she said, and though it sounded very much like an offer, when Jinx turned her body to direct him back in the direction he'd come, it was clear that he didn't have the option of going alone.