What use could Leera possibly have for compliments? The honeyed words are worthless to her. She doesn't seek them, but she'll hand them out blindly if she believes it might advantage her in the end. However, Ivy doesn't seem amused -- that is fine enough. After all, it isn't friends Leera's after. Knowledge is more powerful.
"I don't like compliments either," she admits finally, slowly rolling her eyes. Dark lips straighten into a line and she watches Ivy close, an ear ticking with thought. Her long, languid tail curls and uncurls. "You may call me Leera." The femme's chin dips down a notch in introduction, but there's hardly any warmth in it. Instead, she nods at Ivy, gesturing at the entirety of her. "You smell like a pack." Leera doesn't intend to pry, but if there's anything Ivy can tell her about the packs that litter this realm she'll have open ears.
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
