I desire to smile, to find amusement in her anger and yet, I keep my face flat, an indicator of nothing but the agitation that boils within my veins. She has been here before but she is not a wolf of Glorall, her paws untrained and her nose unused to the salt and the forest. She is only here because I allow her to be, only permitted to raise her lips at me because I so desire to see her squirm. Others might have taken power from me in the form of my name, my children, my blood and yet, I shan't allow any other to do so again, much less in the thick of my own home. If she desires to play games then I will play - but it does not mean I intend to play the very same games as her.

She radiates anger, a heat that permeates the very air and yet, she does not flinch away, simply continues with her chosen path. I am sure to follow her just as closely, each paw mirroring her own if she so walks or trots, my pace on par with hers. I keep my eyes trained on hers, my flank only some inch away despite my own skin crawling at the closeness. I have never enjoyed touch, never found fondness in it. Yet, it is a sacrifice I am happy to make lest she be unable to learn her lesson here today.

But she has questions and I cannot help but sneer at their pettiness. She has come all this way, snuck in beneath the cloak of secrecy, all to ask me of her mother? Of a pack she does not even rule? There is the hint of a laugh in my breath as I slide to a stop, a brow sliding up, perplexed by it really. "And what do you know of friendship?" I ask bluntly, amused and yet, entirely curious as to why she might even call an alliance such a thing. "I hunted with your mother, consorted with her subjects and never once has Glorall performed crime against her blood. And so tell me, empress, how much more a friend you would expect me to be?" There is a hiss in my voice, a callousness that runs deep with each syllable. I do not care, cannot care, about such trivial things. She is a child still, untaught and unlearned in what friendship and allies truly are. I will tell her, I will teach her where her parents failed, but for now, I want to hear it from her. I want to hear her crawl through her thoughts to deliver me something that does not sound like the petulant complaining of a child who longs to be coddled.