Her body shot rigid the moment he appeared, ghastly and silent enough to have snuck up on her. Unexpected, the wraith flowed through the trees to stand to her, unthreatening yet but with an undertone to that deep masculine purr that put her on guard. Her hairs shifted all along her neck and shoulders, threatening to flare into life, but she fought back against the instinct; that voice was sickly sweet, the scent of candy melting in the sunshine. She stared back at the chocolate wolf, eyes trailing the white underbelly and pausing momentarily on the black marking where no fur grew: five inner sides and five points painted it a pentagram. Curious as it was, it didn't match those eyes, which were bright but shot through with only a minimal amount of blue, making them eerie and almost white in their brilliance. Beautiful eyes, if only the creature who wore them matched.
The scars hidden throughout his chocolate fur, drawing jagged lines where it no longer grew, were of no concern to Talitha, who had seen scars like that before. His legs were the worst, and she couldn't quite understand the reason for them being so cut up and mutilated, but the one across his chest and down under the one arm was anything but unusual. Altogether he was harmless enough to look at, but her sixth sense had yet to be wrong about a wolf. She didn't make any sound as she took a step back, followed by another, before even daring to respond to the question.
Who gives a shit? The tense and locked voice was enough to speak wonders of her suspicion of the wolf, and another step back flavoured with haste only further proved her desire to leave. He was much too large for her to handle and she was too far from Inferni for Gabriel or Anselm to come to her rescue. It made her foolish and reckless; she shouldn't have come here, and yet her plan had been to assist the clan.