There is no hint of secrecy in her movements as she chases the lurking craeture from the depths of Iromar. Whoever the male was, he was wise in leaving. Blackthorne would have brought down his crew of miscreants right on the male and Natiya would have taken her place by her brother's side. Just as they had done when the black wolf had sought to delve into their depths. Iromar was not a place to be reckoned with. It's wolves were merciless in their bloodlust and their loyalty to it's master. With each passing day, the Darkbringer's wave of shadow began to creep across Molodian. She did what she could to aid her brother but it seemed his ambition grew with the day and nothing could sate the hunger that resided in him. Would he take a second pack as well? COULD he? She didn't have these answers. She merely did what was needed to ensure his success.

She had no plans to attack the male. While she was dubbed the Silverknife and supposedly skilled in fights, a fact that hadn't truly been tested, Natiya was not stupid. She did not wish to fight a male larger or more capable than herself. She was here for information purposes. So as she makes it into the clearing of the fields, she spies the vibrant alabaster male and her heart immediately slams to a halt inside her ribs. Was this...? Could she be so lucky? If she was the one to bring her brother this information, surely he would be pleased. Surely he would reward her... with what, she did not know. What did she want for anyways?

The male is reticent to her approach, his calm making her insides feel timorous, though she does a clever job at keeping her face impassive except the slant of sharpened eyes upon him. Measuring, weighing. His words make her brows furrow, a look of almost irritation at them. Every wolf she met had some sort of censure or word of advice to give her. They did not know her - they did not KNOW her plans. Yes, this must be the White King of the North. Fallen now. No doubt his words irritated her brother too.

Another girl? Her head twitched slightly to the side, thoughtful. In two sentences he has insulted but also praised her - loud but unable to shake her. "The plains mean nothing to me," she says, her voice full of gravitas, yet beautiful still in her angelic way. "I only seek knowledge as to why you came to Iromar? What fell intentions did you possess or was it a wish for death that drove you?" Then again, if so, he had chickened out, racing away at the first sign of life. She doubted it though. Oh, she knew in her bones that this was THE wolf. Some instinct, some connection with her brother, it all boiled to this. What had the white wolf done to piss off her brother?