Even through the nasty thick area, Wren could drink in the suspicious aroma of a stranger. A male, in fact. But evidently she was in a bad mood and wasn't in quite the mood to flirt or talk. Usually she was always in the mood to act naughty and be devious...by why did she need to have a headache, or just feel like shit? Before the man could really speak to her, the tricolor babe whipped around, flustered. She aligned her head with her spine and bent her knees, growling softly and flattening her small ears against her skull. This boy seemed perfectly friendly and welcoming. And yet, Wren decided to face him with hostility. She splayed her toes into the frosty soil and continued to growl. But then, he spoke. "Hardly, miss. It's as natural as anything else out here."
Just now realizing he was no threat, Wren slowly lifted her head, standing normally and adjusting her expression to where it seemed less aggressive. The dame huffed with exhausting and fell back onto her rear, tail folding over her paws. She felt guilty. She also felt like a pregnant mother going through moodswings. Wren looked up at him and pushed her ears forward a bit as he addressed himself. "The name's Castiel, by the way." Managing to smile, the chapter tipped her head politely and replied in quite a muted voice. Oh...uh, sorry...about that. I have a headache and I'm really jumpy today. Her softened voice was full of anxiety and guilt. But then she continued.
I'm Wren...what makes you think this nasty hell hole-...I mean...place, is like all the others? Ludicael and Abraven are much prettier. She could honestly say this place was the nastiest, creepiest place she's ever encountered. All the areas she'd been to were much nicer and lots more...peaceful. This place was just the aroma of smoke, fallen trees, hardly standing trees, and ashes. Easily she could disagree with this man. She started thinking that anyone could."Speech"
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