There were many emotions Grimoire was familiar with. Fear, disgust, attraction, amusement, engagement, fascination, and delight were all the more common ones. All, already had been ignited by different wolves of Moladion. But it took something quite unique to make her feel unnerved. His stiffened posture was charming and she could have reveled in the way his flecked fur began to prickle on his back, if she hadn’t been captivated by his face. The yellow eyes shifted so quickly from surprise to analytical that her breath faltered while their gazes met. Intelligence was not altogether rare, but the proper amount of curiosity was often absent. In him, she could see the inquisitiveness; questions were dangerous things. And he was full of them.

Grimoire felt the quivering of her instincts to disappear, but they were caught on a narrow mountain path with few trees. She was exposed, and was forced to squander in the uneasiness that pooled around her. While her instincts blared warning, her mind was captivated by the sensation that she wouldn’t be able to heed them. Her hackles began to rise while tension tugged gently at her nose as she attempted to sniff him. The scent of the sage blocked her ability and she immediately dropped the herbs, forgetting their importance while she watched the wolf who’d discovered her.

Her ears twitched at his simple statement as she watched his bold step forwards. Her nose shivered again, and with the sage at her paws, she found the salty smell of his fur. Glorall? With the realization, a mimicked, sinister grin reformed her bewildered mindset. Grimoire tip toed twice forwards, her head lowering as she looked up at him. She echoed him,

”And this is not your home. That is not your den, darlin’.”

She barely registered the latin on his tongue, but did not understand his words, for she did not hear him clearly enough. The words had been spoken to himself, and she hadn’t been expected to identify another language. Now that she was aware of his ability, perhaps she’d indulge her talented tongue?

”So… Quid tu hic agis?”

What was he doing here? Maybe he was a deserter of Glorall. Perhaps he was thinking that he would take the crown in Spirane after the current battle was over. Both wolves would be weak, and ripe for murder. However, she didn’t truly expect him to tell her anything; she was nervous, and the question was serving to distract her mind from the dangerous aura that cascaded around him. She slunk another step towards him, and her energy levels spiked with warning. Grimoire swiped a pink tongue over her white teeth and black lips while she paused in her timid advance, her gaze intent on every shift of his refined musculature.