Ravensblood Forest Will You Hold the Line?

Nem has permission to be in any threads Donovan is in. 

There is a commotion at the border, rousing Nem from the opossum she was stalking. Curious, she slipped effortlessly through the trees, her dark tones blending with the shadows. 
She is the image of a future queen- not a hair out of place, cold, calculating eyes scanning the assembly before her as she steps out of the darkness, body held elegantly poised. 
At first, there is an icy condescension in her gaze, thinking this may be the strange shewolf who she smelt on Donovan's pelt. But no, this one smelt like the lands she had tried to establish a relationship with. With an unsettling effortlessness her expression rearranges, trying to disguise the disdain for the pathetic mutt slinking about behind the shewolf. 
"Pardon my interruption," she purrs, rubbing her length along Donovan's side posessively. "I was curious what the commotion was about. Name's Nemisis. And you are?" She curls her lip and stares at the shewolf expectantly. It was, after all, rude to show up at one's borders without so much as an introduction, and demand information.