Silence was an assassin's chief weapon, and it was one Ferox had mastered well. He was stealthy as an owl, creeping up on the stranger with nary a paw wrong. He was almost upon her when the wind changed and she scented him. Had he been stalking to maim or to kill, he would have rolled first in something to obscure his scent but, as it was, she had quite surprised him with her presence. Her grey tail stirred the dust and she paused in her feast, a long growl echoing through her raven-hued form and into the day. Ferox halted but made no move to aknowledge her threat, simply waited to see what she would do. Predictably, she turned her slender face to him and snarled menacingly, showing off every gleaming fang in her arsenal, before rising to her paws and growling once more, her meal forgotten behind her. She regarded him coldly in that manner for quite some time before he saw fit to break the silence, and she hardly seemed moved by his words. Quite on the contrary, he detected a hint of defiance in her narrowed, calculating eyes and he fought back a self-satisfied grin, realising that he had discovered quite a worthy pursuit with which to while away the day. When she replied, her voice was tempered with a drawl Ferox found unnatractive and common, although he did not say so. More concerning to him were her words, that she did not belong to the pack. On another day he would have chased her out without a second thought but, as it was, he could not face returning to his boring regime. Besides, she reminded him of another wolf he had met in Iromar recently; a wolf of whom Andromeda had been very fond. Perhaps a relation? If so, she may well have rights to wonder Diveen. Sill, he felt it his duty to check,

“I would contradict you, for you smell of Diveen. If you do not stay here as you say, then why are you devouring prey within the borders? It is a punishable offence.”

It was clear his heart wasn't in the threat. Instead, curiosity sparked in his lilac orbs and he regarded her lengthily, taking in her strange appearance and scarred body with a judgmental eye. She ignored his perusal, instead seeming to draw inside herself as she pursued some thought which had grabbed her attention. Only after a good while standing in that manner did the stranger break the silence. Her cold voice was thick and syrupy, but it held a hint of cunning to it that Ferox thought could one day learn to respect. However, it was not how she spoke but what she said that surprised him. He tilted his head, dumbstruck, before finally regaining his composure,

“Me paenitet tibi dissapoint. Quomodo tibi loqui linguis? Numquid ad coitum a sibling meis?”
(Sorry to dissapoint you. How come you to speak this language? Are you mate to a sibling of mine?)

He did not expect her to answer, for he had deduced that she was one who liked to linger in mystery, making others guess at her deepest thoughts, a trait which would only serve to irk him. She turned her muzzle purposfully to show off a terrible wound that had ravaged one side her face beyond recognition. After she was satisfied he had enjoyed a good, long look, she took a step toward him, cutting the rays of sunlight in half. When next she spoke, her words were rather intriguing to him. He had not yet had a chance to speak privately with Heyel since he had returned, and what she said was news to him. Perhaps it was simply a story, but it did explain her unchallenged presence in Diveen. When he replied, his tone was carefully neutral, “I have not heard of this. But, if you played some part in the saving of my father and brother, then I must thank you,” he dipped his head, before continuing, “Heyel does not thank others for aid, even when he needs it most. If it is gratitude you seek then you are barking up the wrong tree.”

And then he smiled mirthlessly, “You speak of pride as if it were a bad thing. Perhaps sometimes you would be right, when it is ill-founded. However, in the case of my family, our pride is what drives us. It is our crowning achievement. Everything that has been accomplished by us has been wrought with pride at the forefront. My father is a living legend, my sister a famous leader and my innumerable neices and nephews in training to become assassins, kings, hunters, healers and warriors. So I ask you this, stranger whose name I do not know, is there any reason for the Angels of Diveen to not be proud? If so, I should very much like to hear it!”

He was enjoying himself now, revelling in this battle of wits, his brows upturned in an almost playful way, although his tone was serious.

Ferox waited with baited breath for what the female had to say next.