When he spoke of tragedy - or lack thereof - she ahh'd for a moment before she retorted, her own tone just as nonchalant (or at least, she did her best to mirror it - it seemed to be something that came with experience too.) "You wouldn't fancy a nibble?" She inquired with a jestering grin, though her tone hinted at the very possible reality. She had been fascinated by these alleged cannibals, after all, but her heart told her she had likely not encountered one. That or her preconceived, and imagined, ideas of what they ought to be like had been wildly wrong.

Her paw dangled and her teeth showed in a brazen grin of childish ignorance and play; she had never expected him to actually take her paw, much less wrangle her down with such a swift motion. Momentarily, her face had been awash with surprise as she tumbled down and landed with a loud thud on her back - she coughed up a surprised laugh, unable to cough out any smart comment along with it. She had been quick though, at least, to scramble up and onto her paws - she would grow to be thankful for that. As she reached her height once more, she had become suddenly aware of the blur of tawny brown.

The cat had landed with surprising grace. At first, she had been taken aback by its silence, her ears high and mouth opened in an 'o' of surprise. Matthias' bark is what had shaken her back to reality though; the moment he uttered that lupine threat, she felt her fur puff up along her body. Her instincts kicked in with a fervent eagerness - her tail arched and her lips pulled back over her canines. Though she was young, she had begun to grow neatly into her body and might have even posed as a threat. Of course, she hadn't the slightest idea of how to back that appearance up.

And so, she followed the old man's actions. She barked and ducked back and away, a gruff growl torn from her throat as she snapped her teeth together with several metallic clacks. The cat seemed un-phased though, its attention still focused on the pair rather than its escape. Still, it rested atop the log, its eyes eager and wide with anger and hunger. That was until it suddenly launched itself down at the leafy floor below; the moment it landed, it swiped out at her injured paw, aware of the blood that had marked her fur. She dove back with a growl and yet, she felt the claws connect along her foreleg for a moment; in their wake, four bloodied lines had been left in the fur, her throat clamped shut in surprise and anger as she pulled the limb back into her body and ducked away.

For a moment, she had been inclined to look towards the older wolf, an unspoken question in her eyes before they flashed back to the cat. Was he prepared to help? Or had he been serious about teaching her a rather harsh lesson?