04-22-2011, 11:39 AM
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Noting the sudden square of the lithe woman's shoulders as she pivoted her air of frustration directly at Alae, despite how unruffled the Dahlian was on approach to the stranger, her instinct couldn't help but furl her guard hairs around her nape in response of defense. One couldn't be too laid back in approach to a stranger, for there were harsh lessons learned upon encountering rogues in their own company in the wrong place, at the wrong time. However, Alae's nostrils detected a specific scent to waft from the lanky Luperci, a scent mingled with a volume of individuals that could only detect scents of a pack. Dealing with a flustered pack member was easier in terms of dealing with a loner, and the Sidhe beckoned to calm her instinct only slightly.
The Dahlian suddenly grew puzzled by the words slipping from the Luperci's streamlined maw. Whether the woman had grown tired of whatever fight she endured, there was no attitude, but something rather of surrendering to her dissatisfaction and to the encounter even before it progressed into something further. Misery typically loved company, but this woman didn't seem to live up to that standard in the here and now. Alae shook her head, her braids tousled by the swing and picked up in the sway of the breeze that followed. "You do not need to. These are not my lands to claim." The neutral territories were something to be shared by all, no matter how much of a depressive day one was experiencing. A couple more moments of silent and crashing of the waves endured, before Alae spoke again. "You should stay a little longer, if anything. The salt in the breeze, when taken with deep inhales, can be relaxing to your chakra." Back in Ireland, there was a reveries of her grandmother's sea salts used with warm baths and overall aromatherapy. Salt seemed insignificant in this day and age, despite how it could heal by means of sterilization, and also through the senses of breathing it in for a period of time.