Northstar Vale does this robe make my ass look too big or just big enough?

Perhaps she’d been too private today for her own good; one moment, she’d been meandering without purpose, except to check novel or faded scent trails and tracks — she had an inkling that Dragomir would tend towards tracking, with all of his sniffing and tasting — and in the next beat, she careened, veering sharply away from—

—a sorely-apologetic looking she-wolf, grappling with an already-dead hare. Aure’s focused lapsed as her dull, frazzled senses fought to catch up with her. This burnished female towered over her, but the silver had learned young to not be as intimidated by another’s height as much as they wished.

For all the traveler’s fumbling and muffled apologies, there seemed to be an elegance that Aure’d favor to apply to her than the mother herself. A make of power, with eyes that scorched, lancing into her own... But then she heard something of Diasporan, and she truly didn’t know in that heartbeat.

However, she mused a lenient ”Yes, of course,” all the same, and then wondered just how familiar this wanderer was with the basilisks’ claim. ”It is, ah, alright,” for the apology. Then, ”Have you, ah, ever been a part of Diaspora before?”