Skye was so lost in her irritability that she didn't notice the man coming until she saw his shadow falling on the snow behind her. The shadow was so long compared to her own that at first, she thought it was Shawchert, the tall leader of Cercatori d'Arte. She was about to utter a greeting when a different voice came, low and gentle. Mostly startled at the difference of what she expected of the man and what she heard, she spun around, her tail fluffed out and her ears erect. The words had been kind, however, and she quickly flattened her fur, slightly embarrassed that she had been surprised so easily, and so near her own territory to boot.
"Sorry about that," she said, referring to her extreme reaction. "I thought you were someone else." She grinned at the man, now friendlier than she had been a few moments ago.
"I'm fine," she said, referring to the man's question as to if she had been alright. She had been stomping around, mainly slightly irritated and getting out aggression, but now she was calm, her temperament relieved in the form of this strange man's arrival. "I'm Skye," she said in greeting. "Skye Collins of Cercatori d'Arte. Who are you?" she asked.
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