She was not impressed by the male who approached, though he seemed rather similar as far as color and build went. It simply wasn't a day to irritate Ghita. Her already narrowed turquoise eyes formed slits upon her face. His nose wrinkled and he let out a huff. Clawed fingers tapped at well-formed forearms impatiently; she wouldn't simply back down because he stepped forward, as that was certainly not her nature. Her pack wouldn't go hungry because of her physical disability. She wouldn't allow something so ridiculous as that to happen.
He didn't seem amused by her antics as he stepped forward, leaning over the deer to retrieve the arrow that had struck her prey down dead. A growl rose in her chest; he came far too close for her comfort. Pounding his chest, arrow in his fist, he tried to relay that it was his before putting the weapon back into his quiver. A snort of hot air escaped her nose. "No. Questo è il mio." She took one step closer to him, prepared to defend her claim with force if necessary.
Oh, she hoped it wouldn't be necessary.
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