It might not have seemed like it but she was attentive - she knew there was some tension about him, on guard perhaps, but she did not particularly care. After all, it was wholly not her fault that others were uncomfortable though she understood why they might be.

Her failure to find the right wolf had made her consider simply leaving but instead, he had reached out to her with his words; she swung her head towards him, eyes narrowed as they skimmed along his form with fervent interest. Older, white but not, red. Had she seen wolves like that before? Familiar but not. New but also not. Another ear twitch, a "hmmm" of consideration as she took a cautious step forward and inhaled deeply. "Many names, many names," she shrugged though her eyes were quick to find his and intensify as she continued, "White King of the North, White One, bastard - who knows?" She shrugged and a laugh rose momentarly in her throat.

Her head immediately tilted then, the movement seeming to cut her laughter off as her lips broke into a more amiable grin. "If you're not him, I can talk." It sounded almost relieved, her voice almost entirely different than prior - as if a switch had been flicked with the realization that he was wholly new in a way. "Sinclair. Yes, Sinclair. Good name, new name. New but not new. New scents - old blood?" She had been in Asteraia a long time once and she had seen wolves like him but not. Whoever he was, he was interesting if not only because he was an energy unlike the others she had met lately.