OOC
Her nostrils flared, picking up the scent of a nearby coyote hybrid. Amy's brown eyes scanned the clearing, searching for the possible source of the scent. A slim young female stepped out, large ears focused on Amy. She had a slim form, trying to act confident with her hand hovering above her own personal set of knives. The trader took in that sight, measuring the way that it was gripped, the age of the adolescent, the slight unease. The coyote was measuring her.
Thank you. You practice with knives as well? How good is your skill? Amy inspected her throwing knife, making sure there weren't any damaging chips in the blade before putting it away. She waved her hand for the rest to continue ahead without her, leaving the wagon to come closer to the coyote girl. It wasn't like her travel routes varied much anyways. Amy's hands rested gently near her hip dagger, ready if necessary. It was relaxed though, more a reflex of habit than a threatening gesture.
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