Word Count: 302
Melee felt the weight of Sa'adat's gaze on her and rubbed her good hand against her arm. It was a self-conscious, anxious gesture. She felt awkward in the presence of the sleek, elegant coyjackal. Her bi-toned eyes flicked briefly upward at the jawline of her company, then back toward the other's feet. The last thing that the Ichikan wanted to do was to instigate some sort of discord between them. Melee's feet shifted nervously, awaiting a cue that she had not struck a vicious nerve. Though she wasn't too afraid that Sa'adat intended her harm. After all, the coyjackal had readily separated from her and was even now keeping a conversational and non-confrontational distance. Still, Melee didn't feel wholly at ease. That was pretty normal since they were newly met and newly met in a strange way at that. Which was entirely Melee's fault for paying so little attention to what was going on around her.
She was not surprised that Sa'adat spoke in that strange tongue. Melee was surprised at the touch of the other woman's fingers against her shoulder. The Soul wolf tensed briefly because she had not anticipated it, but she quickly relaxed. Physical touch was something that she tended to do herself, sometimes when others might find it uncomfortable. So now she was just on the receiving end of that same emotion. She smiled and wagged her tail a touch to show she appreciated the gesture. Then she placed her good hand on her own chest. "Melee." she said, introducing herself. Hoping that it was not insulting to use a gesture like that to convey what she meant. For now, she was making the assumption that Sa'adat didn't understand any English words. Melee figured that it was just body language which had translated for what she meant before.
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