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SSWM: 349
Fiachra enjoyed the outdoors very much this time of year. The winter freeze was a welcome change from the heat of summer, and cold usually didn't bother her. Trudging through the snow in her boots, she was mildly grateful for clothing - a pair of ragged jeans, a black blouse that she had acquired too long ago to remember where from - her mother, perhaps? - and her leather jacket. It was cold, and though her fur kept her warm, she enjoyed not getting soaking wet in this snow. Cold, she liked, but snow was a different story altogether. Fiachra had a love-hate relationship with snow. It was beautiful, but too damn wet. Fiachra hated the wet.
She approached a woman leaning against a tree, and paused in her steps to narrow her eyes slightly. Packmate? Yes. Dangerous? Mm, probably. She was learning that her pack family was less than the most honourable bunch. Some of them were criminal at best. But Fiachra was not much better, with her shattered soul and her cold, sarcastic ways... and her love for pain? Oh, dear God. She could not even begin to think of it now, not in the presence of someone else. She tilted her head slightly and closed the gap between the two females just enough to allow for comfortable talking, though not any more than that. She didn't trust easily and this was no exception.
Slipping her hands into her pockets, she smiled slightly and nodded to the woman. She could sense that she owed this packmate no more respect than any other, for they matched in rank, and the woman did not hold herself in such a way as to beg of her own importance. Now, Itachi had done that, but that was a childish game that he played to soothe his own ego. No matter. Still smiling, she spoke at last. "Greetings. How do you do?" she asked casually, finding a tree behind her and leaning against it with a shoulder, hands still deep in her jeans pockets, trying to look as inconspicuous as she could.