The howl was answered with a song-like voice, short and sweet, assurance that someone had heard and was coming. Pregnant bellies made for hard travel, but Sky had already been out by the borders. Not patrolling, but rather, marking them. Each tree that lined the border received a tiny ribbon tied to a lower branch, or purple paint on its bark. She'd done it last year too, but they'd worn off since then and it was time to refresh it all.

But it would have to wait, apparently. She'd brought Queen with her on her rounds, for easy travelling, and thus rode up on the mare's back, sitting on a thick blanket with a leg on each side, not a usual sight for a pregnant lady. Her head lifted at the sight of the stranger, torn ears flashing forward and tail flicking to lay straight across Queen's rump.

"You do well to wait there, stranger." She praised in warning, blue eyes cold and calculating. "Who are you and what business do you have with Cercatori d'Arte?" Not friendly, no, but not cruel either. Sky wasn't one of the members anyone would actually -want- to meet at the borders now. Far from it. The council woman was a touch suspicious of all strangers since her daughter's death.
.

Apparently, this Amy had only wished to learn more about d'Arte. Sky decided, after a moment of thought, to tell her the basics but nothing more. "Cercatori d'Arte's a pack for artisans and traders. Merchants. Not much more to it than that, really." She replied almost boredly, cool eyes never leaving the blond-furred woman for an instant. "Though the usual assumption people make, artisans being weak in battle... a warning we like to toss in these days is that we're not." As if on cue, Queen snorted and took an uneasy step backwards, flaring her tail for a moment. Sky hushed the horse quietly with somewhat obvious low-speech and then turned her attention back to Amy.

"Well now you know. Anything else?" Nope, not a very friendly woman, but at least she was better than the rest of her pack. Had either of the boys, Shawchert or Taliesin, greeted the poor rogue, it would've been obvious that Sky was being nice. With tension came tempers and Sky had plenty... but at least the medic could control hers.

She mulled over the question carefully, eyes narrowing as she considered her answer carefully. She'd been trading a long time, born and raised a rogue and an orphan beside her older sister. There was nothing ignorant about the pregnant woman and she was quick to catch on. Something about what the woman was saying was calculated, at the very least. "We have no such route. We trade with other packs more than we do rogues. What's there to gain from building relations with a rogue when there are nine other packs in the area to choose from?" When the rogue woman commented on not being as barbaric as the other packs...

...it earned the poor girl a cool and pronounced glare. "Beasts like my packmates? Watch what you say. D'Arte is made up of more than just those with the virus." She considered the pale woman another moment before lifting her chin a bit. "Nevermind that, however. Is there anything else you came here for, or are we done here?" Sky had determined that visitors that didn't have interest in either joining or coming from another pack were simply not worth the pleasant interactions. Rogues, without the intentions of joining a pack or group, were generally selfish creatures. D'Arte needed none of those crowding their borders.

From her place inside the borders, Sky narrowed her eyes. The woman thanked her and turned away, leaving at her own steady pace and whistling as if not a care could be found. Loners and rogues. Sky was slowly starting to dislike the lot of them. Something about this one rubbed her the wrong way and it was only understandable that the hormonal, protective woman tred on the side of caution.

As the woman got further and further away, she stayed put and once the borders were no longer occupied by the girl's fresh scent, Sky sent out a howl into the sky, one of warning. This woman was not welcome to return at her leisure, though she was not banished from the land's borders in any way. A show of posession over the territory, a reminder that d'Arte was not a pack to trifle with.

Her warning cast, she turned and left for home. She felt a bit tired and was looking forward to crawling into bed and escaping her day-to-day duties in favor of spoiling her pregnancy. Yes, milking it for more than its worth. Lazy bitch.