Blackfeather Woods Naughty baby here to tease you

She is not a warrior, no. But she fought. The moment she heard Sheogorath's pawsteps switch from sloshing to soft, muffled thuds on the ground, she stood. Rising from her curled position to face him, her hackles raised and tail curled as if her life was on the line. Sheogorath wouldn't kill her, no. But she had a duty to protect her family in the subtler ways compared to the warriors and assassins that consistently dominated the pack. And so far she was responsible for continuing the Melonii bloodline. With both of those goals in mind, she had to defy him now. If it meant hurting him, she would do it, and she made that clear in her body language and the burning fury in her single eye.

She thought he would be smarter. While it was minimal, she had been trained to fight, and how to compensate for her missing eye. It had been a while since she had fought, but the memories were still locked in her muscles. She sprung away, keeping her eye firmly locked on the man, briefly feeling the brush of his muzzle near her skin. Potema attempted to counterattack, her fangs aimed at clamping onto his tore and spottled muzzle.