Sepirah snorted, with no regards to the woman's feeling or even unnerving nature. Why would she smile in the face of an almost certain loss? At least, to Sepirah, it was. The black jackal's smirk grew even larger as the woman introduced herself. "Sepirah Lykoi," Sepirah spat out, her voice laced with an acidic and almost instinctual hatred of the woman; if she would boast of her heritage, so would Sepirah.
An ugly snarl marred Sepirah's face - this woman, so delusional, thinking that Dahlia de Mai still lived, had no sense in her brain. And yet.. perhaps that made her more dangerous. The one who laughed and grinned in the face of clear danger was mad, and it was the mad ones that all feared and none understood. To understand an enemy was to defeat him, and yet no one, not even Sepirah, could understand the workings of a mind who was insane.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when the woman lunged towards her with her claws outstretched, attempting to bite her. Sepirah hastily moved to the side, but not before the smaller woman caught her claw on the inside of her thigh, bringing a burning sensation to the spot, and a small, warm trickle of blood down her leg. Snarling, she spun around and slashed downwards with her blade, attempting to strike the woman's arm.