Hushed Willows Put a spell on me

As the two spoke, the poppy girl remained quiet, seating herself as a fine lady might. She found the contrast between their speech humorous. It caused a brief, girlish smile to appear on her lips. As they talked, Valmúa idly wondered if the coyote's face would fit in her mouth. She was such a tiny thing, and so unlike any hrææta that she had met apart from her defensive nature. The northerner was intrigued by her, for she was difficult from the methodical sameness that dominated her life.
The sister remained silent even as the little dark thing spoke. She was willing to wait for agreement. Words would serve little purpose. She believed the coyote to be truthful, that indeed she faced threat from "their kind" on a regular basis. It was nature for wolf and coyote to hate one another. Valmúa was willing to break such a pact with nature should it be of use.