Duskfire Glacier stone-age mind in a space-world age

When the one the woman knew as the leader arrived, and the conversation turned serious, the grin slipped from the obsidian wolf's face. Her ears perked as she listened to the words exchanged between them, not caring to join in. The fire-like wolfess wanted revenge—not she could blame her—and then two others didn't want to succumb to violence. Either course of action was fine to the dark girl, just as long as whatever violent acts conducted didn't involve her going head-to-head with another. She could defend herself, but the lupine was built to run, not fight. Running in a battle would be cowardly, though, and she preferred to keep up her fearless-act. The wolf who left the gift, whoever they might be or where they are from, are not wolves Sen would want to go after, anyways, as it was still unsettling. Still, she knew she would follow blindly to play out whatever course of action was selected as a response. A fool's act, really, but that's what she often ended up being.

The mutilated head. The image popped into her mind, as did a thought. If whoever had left it could do that without a care in the world, then would any course of action really work? Without violence, they could end up being seen as an easy target, but retaliation could lead the mutilator right back to their doorstep, but this time with something more than the head of the dead. Sen gave a small shake of her cranium, and went back to listening to what the others were saying. Maybe they would come to an agreement—no, she doubted that happening.