All The Right Moves

The small fae would narrow her blue grey irises at him, shaking her head. "I do not know who you are, what you want to do with me- and what you can do with me," she said hesitantly, lips pulling back to show pearly white daggers. She was far from a fighter, but if she needed to fight to defend herself, she would. Anything to protect her and her broken paw.

She would ignore the male's words of peace, only speaking up when he asked of her name. The femme would tilt her head up, opening her maw. My name is Misha," she would say, still on edge.