Phoenix Maplewood Necrodancer

Instinctively she could tell he was rattled - why, she wasn't certain. The witch wasn't much of one to understand others and the way they thought, it was all a matter of how she felt in the moment in their presence. If she liked them or not. There was no neutral grounds, only the grounds that she hasn't decided yet, and she hasn't with this one within the seconds they met.

Time was ticking for him however, which side of the coin would he fall on?

As he thought of something internally, apologizing, well that was good enough she supposed to not hate him right away. It was more than she would get from many wolves in this area. For a moment her eyes narrowed onto him as she mulled it all over, thoughtfully they bore into him as if trying to read his soul. 

As he mentions pack borders, for a moment the furs along her spine rose. Ready to defend herself, feeling her slender limbs growing stiff, only for a moment. There was no lunging, growling, or choice words exchanged - she was on neutral lands and certain of that, and he seemed to accept that. 

Relaxing, the woman allowed the words to flow freely once more. A what? what am I? Of course she knew what she was, but what was she to him? A coyote? A woman? A witch? Something else? She was intrigued. As he fumbled, she was the image of dignity, sure of herself - well, as sure of herself as a mentally sick and delusional individual could be.