Sun Mote Copse I've been swimming from the Wallace

There we go.  Finally, she dropped the nice act.  Fennec wasn't about to sit there and pretend nothing was wrong.  Subtlety wasn't her style, not when she had something she wanted to say.  And there was a lot she wanted to say.  She just didn't quite know what yet.

Fennec's expression tensed, and she frowned at the insult, though that frown quickly turned into a small smirk.  Anger sometimes brought out the best in her, but only when the other wolf was angry on her level.  She hated imbalance, but here, Niamh wasn't talking down to her.  Not even if her insults were demeaning.  It was different in a way she couldn't explain.

The sharp scent of spearmint clouded her for a second, telling Fennec Niamh was in the garden.  This bitch was going to go off on her AND ruin what little greenery Eljay and Weejay had left? What kind of... oh shit.  She needed to be checked.  Hard.

Fennec stalked back a few paces, so that she was clear of the plants.  Then she circled round, facing Niamh from a distance away, her head up, but her muscles tensed.  Fine.  But you'd better not fucking hold back.

Fennec was no fighter.  She'd sparred and lost a dozen times, and she rarely if ever won.  But she wasn't about to pass up this challenge or let Niamh assume anything.  That was the root of this whole mess, right?  That Niamh didn't respect her.  Either way this was a win for her.. she could take out some aggression, and maybe, just maybe, prove something.