Angel blood, Demon blood, what did it all really matter? In the end when cut they all bled red. They all lived, bred, and died. There was nothing glorious about either of the standards. It was said that the Angels were born Assassins yet Aithne would bet her empire that such was not true - all talents were trained, honed from what was already there. The same could be said for her. Aithne knew she had not been born a leader. In the old land she had called home life had been harsh. There had been little need for much of a ruler because all the wolves existed simply to eat, breed, sleep, and defecate. There was no higher purpose, no calling, and in a way because of that she had been trained to be the strong wolf she was today. Perhaps a bit too apathetic sometimes, but altogether rather well rounded.

The male does not show an immediate sign of deference but Aithne had come to expect that out of wolves seeking admittance. Had she not also shown the same neutrality that this wolf showed her, even if her stance was a bit more aggressive? Arkane is neither subservient nor is he dominant - he treads the line of one wishing to show strength of character but also show that he was a worthy one. Her emerald eyes take in his black coated figure, dipping down to the pristine white and meeting his eyes once more. A Diveen Princeling come to stay in the marshes perhaps? The idea is appealing for she had attempted to mend ties between the packs. Despite Kane's word that the attack of the lone ex-Iromar wolf, Aithne was peeved that such an attack had happened and that her pack had been signaled out for this dead wolf had created a sort of underlying tension to what was already a tense situation.

Arkane had come in hopes of joining with the marsh wolves and Aithne nods slowly to him, appraising him. "Well then, Arkane, I would wish you welcome to Iromar. Your presence here can, I hope, be a balm to the old wounds between Iromar and Diveen. But I ask that you be wary. There are still a few wolves here of old thinking and although my word is law, they may not be able to control themselves. If they should risk harming you for some old hatred, they will also face severe punishment from me, but the same goes for you. You are young yet and I hope untainted in the filth of the past. I would be remiss, however, if I did not inform you of this." Her words are projectiles, aiming to quell any misdeeds before they begin, for she did not know Arkane's true intentions and it was in Aithne's nature to be suspicious of all until they have proven themselves.

"That being said, one of your own now resides here and has thus far seen no trouble, even if he is not of your bloodline. Yojimbo. I hope that you will also be an asset to my pack." She dips her head a fraction, a slight allowance of respect for the young prince boy who came into the midst of the old enemies lair.