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SSWM: 212.
Fiachra took the girl in, her eyes still narrowed dangerously. She didn't have a good feeling about this, for some reason. She had always been a little overly defensive, and she knew that well and fine, but she didn't feel like it was out of place this time. She relaxed her arm a little, content that this girl at least didn't have intentions of attacking her, and looked her over slowly. Her words were calm, perhaps even a little disrespectful in how casual she was, but she was right about one thing - she had not trespassed. Fiachra was mildly disappointed. She'd like to wipe the smugness out of this girl, and maybe some after that too.
Instead, she wrapped the rosary around her wrist a few times and let the bladed crucifix hang by her hand, and extended her non-weaponed hand to the girl in stiff greeting. "I'm not huffy, girl. I'm defending my borders, as anyone who knows what it is to be in a pack would do." Her words were edged; clearly, she implied that, by deeming her 'huffy,' this girl did not know how to be part of a pack. She continued. "As you wish. I'm Fiachra. Who are you, and what business have you with Anathema?"