Word Count » 305
There was always the scent of other people in the pack, especially since they were in the ruins. Many of the family lived here, in their respective dens and ruins and hovels. Isabella's had been well decorated, though her most valuable possessions were hidden in the walls of the ruin and in the walls of the den, where cloth and stones hid shelves and nooks. Perhaps others harbored such secrets, though theft would not be smiled upon if caught. Isabella preferred to keep to herself. Others' homes were not to be invaded.
Someone's scent grew stronger, and the woman looked up from her lap, where a few pine needles had fallen. She brushed them away as the other Salsolan approached, and recognition identified the woman. Alessandra, wasn't it? She had already been at the scene of the fight that night ages ago. Isabella instantly touched her collar bone, fingers dancing lightly over the scar there. The other woman had a pack with something in it, probably glass or shells from the tinkling sound.
"Hello," she replied, mimicking the other woman's greeting and easy smile. A female creature before her meant that Isabella was more comfortable to be easy and open. Women could be wily but that was a cleverness that was easy to respect and understand. After the fight the two of them shared with Sirius, perhaps they were entitled to more familiarity despite the scarce talk after the battle. Isabella shield her eyes lightly with a hand, watching the other woman settle herself a fair distance away. Rising from her seat on needle detritus, the gypsy woman rearranged her skirts about her waist. It swished at her feet as she approached the other woman with the curious markings. "May I sit?" she asked pleasantly, gesturing to the area before her.
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