what shows up in her view is not precisely what she expected upon hearing a voice speak kindly and with a comfortable informality as to design the name “cousin” for her… though cousin is hardly a word she understands, as healers are just a mite proud as a bloodline and rarely speak (if ever) in this “common tongue” that the wolves outside the pack she now hails from were fluent in.

"Quare nisi me Cousin." he says, as if, for all the world, there shouldn’t be a kinder soul. he looks at her, she looks at him - and there is a distinct disconnect between their two responses to finding one another. his is companionably calm, almost familiar. her is as if every alarm bell was ringing in her head, staring with wide sunburst-iridescent eyes at the black wolf with red marks -- only stuck in place because of the white that freckles a striking face.

"Nwwa, y’lal ‘eva ta eirgofv em he? I hothutg ya asw neo fo meh ucossin, ew lla eb lknoio’ kile tda. S’laitgrh thoguh, rekcon it’s enci ta mete ya yaywna and ndu royrw I ain’t on Demon wflo ghutoh I be okonil’ ikel it. Em Ap ustj tog ipmidnrte htwi a black lwof, ahtt’s em Ma nad em rhboetr dan I caem otu ithw reh rcolou tbu hsi marks. I gto mose ietwh, no me eye ohguht. Aimm Uiagdrna, form Viedne, ad angel Ityc. Uoy rdetela ta anyeon aedr?"

he spews words she cannot follow, the drawl tempering the terror in her eyes, turning it instead to utter bewilderment. some words she catches, recognizing key terms with nothing by which to judge them. "EGO operor non agnosco quis vos narro..." she almost whispers uneasily, eyes flicking as if cornered when it is nothing of the sort. she feels foolish, mostly. foolish for standing still staring into the face of what she still believed to be a Demon, listening to some foreign tongue in utter ignorance, it was all a bit much for the eleven year old female.

"quare es vos res pius volo?" she tries, her hackles relaxing as she realizes that they are raised at all. somehow she feels ashamed of the response in light of the cordial greeting and lack of savage attack - but demons were tricksy beasts and she cannot forget every prejudice taught to her where only white and red roamed - all else cleansed or forsaken to other packs where the black marks could be seen to by those who could control such things, healers always far more suspicious and superstitious than the other bloodlines that favored just a spark of that black amongst their ranks. "EGO sum Gazardiel ex Confundens progenies."