shaking off the rust

Vanta wasn't sure what to think, though she somehow managed to keep the cordial smile upon her lips while she considered the implications of Flurry's words. This, right here in front of her, was a pirate. Well, a raider, but a new name did not (in Vanta's opinion) remove the negativity that went along with the group. She couldn't help but feel a surge of instinctual wariness bubble forth.

"You're supposed to be attack-on-sight." She wasn't sure why she was volunteering this information, but out her mouth the words came anyways. "We're enemies. Not the 'I mildly disapprove of your actions' kind, but the 'legends and bedtime stories warn of our family's feud' kind." This wasn't just an adversary; this was a living embodiment of every cautionary tale she'd heard growing up. At least, that was the case the last time Vanta had been home. The irony of this peaceful, even flirtatious interaction was not lost on her. Was this what a pirate was now? What else had changed while she'd been gone?

As Flurry picked herself up from the dirt, Vanta busied herself with a fluid, almost feline stretch. Her tail curved over her back in a proud, lofty arc, her forepaws lifting slightly off the ground as she relished the satisfying burn that coursed through her muscles. As she indulged, Vanta's head and neck made slow, deliberate turns -  first to the left, then to the right. The movement served a dual purpose: first as a much needed release of tension, and second as a discreet sweep of their environment. The Armada was a stones throw from here, and the last thing Vanta needed was her father to stumble upon his recently-disappeared daughter and find her here, conversing pleasantly with a pirate.

With their surroundings assuredly empty, Vanta allowed the rest of her lithe form to fold and smoothly follow the front, settling on her right hip and kicking out her rear paws comfortably out to the side. Propping herself up slightly on one elbow, she fixed Flurry with a gaze now imbued with a playful yet cautious shimmer. "As for flirting with pretty ladies." Her voice dipped low, picking up the other girl's flirtatious cadence with ease. "One could argue it to be it's own form of shit stirring, don't you think?"

"Speech"