(477) But. But. BUT I DID IT RUDELY. SUPER RUDELY. SO RUDELY. YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO LIKE IT!!!111one!!1
Eris is by Libri!
The dark woman watched impassively, her sharp green-yellow eyes trained on the pair in the distance. She saw their pace slow, and was certain she was now seen. For her part, Eris did nothing -- it was better to make no move, she thought, and cede the first action to this strange pair. She might disappear back into Amherst and hide somewhere if they proved foe, but Eris's encounters were generally not so exciting or violent. Statistically, her packland was a far more dangerous place than the lands outside of it -- her child had died on the borders, and the pack had been attacked on its own claim. Of course, Eris did not think like this, as few did, and so she viewed the outsiders as a potential threat.
It would seem one of the pair -- the timberwolf-colored one -- was more friendly, for he strode toward her at a faster pace than his companion, waving and trotting toward her. No threat, she immediately decided, relaxing her posture. Only a fool would come at her headlong, unmindful of any potential companions Eris might have been keeping behind her in the dilapidated farmhouse. Such a fool was not one to suspect trickery and falsehood from, and therefore Eris thought she might depend on this one to be honest. His pale companion, who hung back a moment, might well be the smarts of the operation, though.
His words struck her ears, and she stepped forward, finding some hint of familiarity on the man's tongue. The chartreuse-eyed woman could not identify it, for she was not so experienced in the world as to peg an accent to a place of origin immediately, but she did smile. It was a dazzling sort of thing that crept across her muzzle and lit her eyes. A liar who could not control her face was no liar at all, and Eris had practice with this. She intended them no harm, but neither did she intend to leave herself open to harm, either.
What a lovely accent, she called, stepping past some scattered and rotting wooden boards in the snow. Perhaps a decade ago, it might have been a fence. Now, it had furcated into several fences, each of them leaning a different way. None of the boards were still erect, but some stuck up out of the ground, and the charcoal-colored woman looked down to place her feet around them. Old wood splintered easily, and she did not wish to pierce her foot and suffer injury just now. Her gaze was quick to return to the stranger upon bypassing the fence, and her smile brightened further. Good afternoon, she said, glancing to the horizon in pretense of ascertaining the time of day. She looked to the man's pale companion, in truth, checking to see her proximity to the pair.
@import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css');
</style>[/html]