Blackfeather Woods mentor.

@Abraxas

Since her return, the air around Emma felt different - she'd earned the favor of her superiors, but she'd also begun to earn a sense of discipline. She no longer had the option to kill for entertainment's sake. Emma was under someone else's rule now, whether she liked it or not.
Strolling through the territory, she caught a whiff of another wolf's scent; a wolf she hadn't met. Now, seeing as she'd seen all of the adult wolves at least once in her time within the Woods, she could only assume that this was the aroma of a child. A smile crept across her face as she followed the scent to its origin.

. the boy had taken to the tunnels, their quietness and solitude, and now paused at the entrance to the tunnels in question. he stared in without expression, eyes piercing as he considered. 

but a sound distracted him, and he turned to see a figure growing steadily nearer. he stilled, silent, yet his eyes were burning brands as he stared in her direction, lips curling over his fangs in a silent snarl, for he did not know the scent that drifted toward him and had yet to judge it's bearer.

The child's immediate defiance pleased Emma, for she knew what kind of spirit the small body held. In a sense, she was reminded of herself when she was that age; a runt, sure, but a runt who took no shit.
Relax, kid. I don't want to hurt ya, you're alright. Who's child it was, Emma wasn't completely sure, though she formed an idea and based her behavior around what she assumed. She looked directly into the kid's eyes, trying to calm his defense. I'm harmless, kid.

harmless. he had not heard the word before, but already his mind worked to decifer it. harm meant hurt. this he knew, and less meant...not as much. hurt not as much? he raised a brow, obviously unimpressed. what use was someone who did not hurt as much? yet his snarl lowered, meeting the oher's gaze with chilling empitness as he merely gazed into her optics, staring. his bold, chilled gaze unerved many, and he knew that he would not be the first to pull his gaze away. a test, perhaps, of the woman, the one who didn't hurt as much and he thought rather little of at the moment.

Still, he was silent. Emèlie was intrigued by the child's façade and took care to meet his cold gaze. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head slightly to the side, trying to make out his message. He almost reminded her of herself as a child -- before the death of her mother. But even moreso, she was reminded of Remy.
You've got one hell of a glare, I'll tell ya that much. Emma blinked before allowing a frustrated grin creep across her face. What was up with this little mongrel?

"Harmless, is weak."
chilling words, especially when spoken with such little emotion. having never encountered the woman before, he thought very little of her thus far, not knowing of her exploits, he wondered why she was here at all. he was then silent once more, though as he watched her without fear, his maw worked once more to deliver but a question, perhaps one that his mother ought to have asked had she admitted the woman, and yet, she had not.

"What use are you?" His vocabulary was sparse, and yet he thought very, very carefully before he spoke, seeking to model his words much like the eloquent speakers in his life. Though at times, his sparse vocabulary came to his aid in this pursuit, in some odd, twisted way.

For a kid his age, Abraxas had some balls on him. Emma smiled a harsh expression and snorted at the boy's notion that she was of no use. Harmless to you, but not harmless to all. I...like to kill things. It seemed the simplest way to explain her role in the pack without risking confusion, and the fact that it was so straight forward also pleased her.
What was her use? Brawn, yes, but she also served as a scout; a spy. I get information from other packs, then I use it against them. Been doin' it since I was about your age, matter of fact.

She spoke, explaining herself, and the boy listened. There was a pause that stretched out after she finished speaking, which was only broken by the boy's voice, a single, curt word. "Good." 
But the other no longer interested him, and without warning his gaze broke from hers and he spun, vanishing after a few strides into the wood.