The petite woman watches him, studying him, taking note of his every expression and tonal switch. Her ears twitch to catch his words, and they are silly words: "Many packs are unheard of." At this, Leera does not conceal the low snicker that rises from the back of her throat. "A pack whose existence goes unnoticed is no pack at all," she says, with certainty. What's the point of becoming a king if the entire world does not remember your name?
But, of course, Leera hasn't heard of any other packs, though she is certain they are out there. Perhaps she's just picking away at Acere, seeing what kind of rise she can get out of him. Either way, the cream-hued femme settles down and dips her chin in greeting to the white male when he gives her his name. "It's a pleasure, Acere," she cooes, tacking on what he has left off. Her tail ticks slowly. "I find myself returning here often. It's peaceful -- I can really think here. Figure things out. Tell me, Acere, is there anything on your mind?"
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
