Fire, ash, snow - the other female’s coat is a myriad of tones standing out so vividly against the dimmed greenery around them. Light rains dampened their coats as Myrria inches her way back from the towering beast, still on edge with her teeth bared. It was certain that this stranger had no good intention for her and she wasn’t about to lose her life this way. Not after she had fought so hard to survive for so long. She was barely a mature adult for fuck’s sake.

The rumbling in her throat ceases and her ears slip forward for a split second as the female speaks in broken sentences, the words slithering off of her tongue in a raspy timbre. This is some sort of sick game that she is playing, it has to be. Never in her four years has Myrria come across anyone as unhinged as this one appears to be. But then again, who is she to judge? She is no saint by any means. She slaughtered dozens of her own kind throughout those three years - even the young ones. To her it was survival but there was something more that caused her to finally feel at peace, like she was doing something right even when she knew it was so wrong. How much different is she than this girl?

Evasion was one of her easiest techniques and worked plenty of times when she had encountered larger opposition from the north. Something told her that she wouldn’t be able to do that this time - or shouldn’t. Despite the fear that the larger female caused to rise in her, there was something that intrigued her. A darkness that was seen in those bright, colorful eyes of the stranger that seemed to pull at her soul. Myrria does not move at the female’s words, she does not want to give her what she desires; a bloodbath. But the opal-eyed girl initiates contact with an attack toward her right shoulder. She is clearly lighter and more agile than the brutish female and uses this to her advantage within the moments of the lunge. Myrria’s tensed legs propel her forward and to the left as she evades the fangs to her skin, turning quickly on adept paws to take a quick snap at the other’s flank before backing away further.

Her best chance is to dance in and out instead of staying in the vicinity of the larger set of jaws. She did not want to get involved in a full out brawl and would flee if need be. Her stance is defensive once more as her hackles remain raised and her ears laid against her head, waiting for the next move.