Haunted Wood the sun comes up, babe, but it's hard to get my fill

she does not miss the way his gaze moves to the spaces behind her, as if expecting some other to step forth. once again, she finds herself contemplating just how much their allies had favored Vengeance. his death was the way of the pack, yes, but that made her his murderer. murderer. it was the first time she'd thought of it, and an unfamiliar feeling gather's in her chest. 

the man—arcturus— introduces himself eloquently, and she is just as much learning as she is committing the details to memory. she is intrigued by the man's offer, but is sharply reminded of the details she has to get out of the way first. tongue runs over her fangs, considering a moment before she speaks. "vengeance is dead. I am the warlord, now." it is up to the man to connect the dots, boasting about killing the man suddenly does not appeal. "but the pack is well. what kind of tutelage do you offer?" her words are carefully chosen, attempting to match up to the beta's easy elegance. she doesn't wish to linger on the topic of her murder, either, though she realizes it might be rather unavoidable.