Hideaway Strath let us be gone

Whrist glanced up at the grandmaster as he approached, her eyes moved over his stocky form with pleasure she loved his non-wolf like color. With a half relaxed huff she lowered her tail just a little and also her lips.

She would not give this wolf her name, it was unnecessary in fact at this moment she had no need to speak, though she caught his pleasantry which was also an obvious lie. So far her greeting was not a pleasure, just the opposite.

Her eyes flicked to the harbinger, surprise clear on her face, as she continued to speak about killing him, since she had seemed so relaxed in the strangers company. The black femme couldn’t help herself now she wanted in on this action, her gaze moved back to the stranger, she licked her lips and smirked evilly. She’d join in on any game.

She found herself looking over the wolf again assessing him for fighting capability her inspection of his black pelt pleased her until she realized it was marred with other colors, his pelt was ruined in her mind, nothing like the grandmasters rich colours and nothing like her own perfect midnight black one. This wolf was nothing, in comparison to ‘her Grandmaster’.

Keeping her gaze on the stranger, her ear tipped to hear the Grandmasters judgement.  One she’d accept easily enough or act upon with much enthusiasm.