Falls of the Hinterlands in the reign of the lion,

It was a rare day that Åshild was afforded a kill large enough to do as she had done to herself today.

But, with the teeth of the rabbit lodged in her shoulder, she had killed it, ripped into its sides and devoured its heart while it still beat. And, after she had eaten its heart, she proceeded to sweep her paws through the pooling blood, up onto her forehead, down to her muzzle, garish and ghastly.

She stared at herself in a pool of water, the roaring of the fall nearby masking any ringing in her ears. The rabbit was stored. 

She bared her teeth at herself, reveling in the haunting terror of her reflection.

Fury had seen tiny canids before. 
Nala, as an example. 
And she watched one now, the woman smearing blood across her face with crimson-coated paws. 

Quietly, the Warchieftain came closer with an inquisitive rumble. 

It wasn't meant to be a menacing sound, but with Fury's own towering mass, it likely would come across as such.

Piercing golden eyes watched the smaller canine, interested.

The approach of the wolf made Åshild’s shoulders bristle, the rumble making her heart rabbit in her chest.

But the white giant appeared to be respectful, keeping her distance to the small canine, and to that, Åshild could only return the same respect.

Hallo. She greeted, giving a short dip of her head and a slow step to the side, allowing the giant to access the water should she like.

Fury could recognize Norse accents by now, and considered offering a response in that tongue. 
But it may serve better for now to keep that to herself.

"Hello." She responded instead, dipping her muzzle slightly as a formality. 
The Chieftain prowled past the smaller canine quietly, taking a drink from the waters. 
"New around here?" She inquired, licking the excess water from her jowls.