Reflections

A voice cuts through the silence, jolting the fae to attention. She freezes at once, fur spiking with agitation, and swings around to face her companion. A woman shrouded in black and white stands nearby, eyes on the mahogany she-wolf. She doesn't exude a sense of violence of ill-intent, infact, her words had suggested the very opposite. There'd been, perhaps, a hint of concern there. But Thorne was instilled with heightened anxiety in that moment, and although her pelt smoothed, she maintained a cautious posture.

"Greetings. I hope I didn't startle you". She raises her head and stands tall in an attempt to regain her composure. "I was just passing through". She hesitates, the words balancing on her tongue, silently debating whether she should speak the words. They could damn her. Or save her. "I'm new" she says finally, and although, outwardly, her words are calm and even, she interally winces. Her vunerablity is evident, she is sure. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get out of your fur". She turns on her heel, cheeks burning at the awkwardness, eager to disappear into the undergrowth.