She wasn’t trying to be unwelcoming or mistrustful, had their meeting taken place on the boarders of the lands her demeanor would no doubt have been entirely different. Yet they are here and from youth she has been warned of strangers and the possibility of their less than savory intentions. It is no fault of his or hers that there is such wariness in her gaze. As her call fades she pays close attention to him, intending to see if requesting her mother’s presence would cause him any unease, even though it had been his idea to call her. He fidgets a bit, his eyes cutting away from her and focusing more on the mountainous landscape. Even when she attempts to be conversational he almost ignores her words and with damaged pride her next words are a bit more conciliatory and genial, but his remarks lash out at her in their accusatory manner.

Her face falls, a bit affronted and hurt at being spoken to like such. She has been on the receiving end of her brothers jests and on occasion an reprimand from her mother, but never with the touch of loathing that she sensed in his voice. The barest hint of a growl rumbled in her small chest, choice remarks rising in her throat about to spill when Daenerys finally appeared. Her gray masked eyes close momentarily at the warmth of her mother’s touch, but the comfort over her greeting is overruled by her embarrassment at being treated like such a child. “Moooom,” she whined while popping up from where she sat, slender paws stroking at the hair between her ears in an attempt to smooth it down again. At her mother’s words she stilled, moon-rimmed eyes flicking back to her even as her small ears lay flat against her skull in a mixture of apology and dismay.

For a moment her mouth hung open slightly having been so reprimanded, but she tries to collect herself. “I wasn’t trying.. I didn’t mean…” she stammered before looking back to Iscariot, “Sorry.” The word came out much as a pout with as much apology as she could muster at the moment, one dark foot scraping at the ground. She grew quiet as her mother continued on, smiling at the male but Kalseru is proud to hear the hint of reservation in her words at why he is so deep in the heart of the mountains. Her heart, at least, had been in the right place. Her mahogany eyes, so much like her mothers, linger back on him and waiting to see what his decision would be entirely unaware that she had perhaps changed his mind. Then again if the slightly ‘high spirited’ girl was capable of driving off every newcomer to the mountain pack they would surely be in trouble indeed.