Whoever had been following her might have thought themselves silent, but seldom were wolves as quiet as they believed. In any case, she'd been distantly aware of them behind the sound of rain, but she'd not paid them much heed. It wasn't as if she was heading anywhere particularly secretive, though she did begrudge them in advance on the off-chance that she would find a meal. She expected they'd insist she share in that instance, a thought that made her inwardly bristle. They had been using her path, after all! She owed nothing else. Apparently stretching her muscles out had done little to remove the internal frustration of having been cooped up for days on end.

She had continued on her little adventure for some time before she finally noticed the noise that had once been behind her had disappeared. She paused then and her eyes narrowed slightly as she tilted her head this way and that in an effort to relocate her would-be follower. Where had they gone? She huffed, her breath sending out a puff of steam from her nostrils before she made a move to begin jogging once more. Only then did he slip out in front of her, slowing but still wearing a proud little face. Her eyes were wide in an instant, owl-like an intense as she peered down at him. It took her more than in instant, however, to recognize him beneath the rain, mist and mud. Avery's heir - Apollyon. Her head lowered slightly, more to his level so that she might get a better look at him - or rather, a better look at that smug smirk of his.

"I'm going across my pack to my borders, to search for food and reprieve." She used the word my deliberately though her voice was mild and sweet, as it always was. Apollyon was heir, after all, but that did not mean he would be king, or that he was the most suited for it. Heirs were often chosen for their early vigor, but heirs could change. Ruby knew that, knew it well, and so she'd not put all her hopes on a single child, particularly one so smug. Smug children...ah, they often found themselves earless by one and maimed by two. At least, those who wore their smugness so brazenly did.

Then he reeled back, his face crinkled up. Hers crinkled too, though in agitation at first before she smoothed her features back into something more...comely. Her grin was venomous as she took a step forward, placing her paws down heavily as her venom-grin turned to an amused smirk so much like his had been.

"Ashamed? Should a wolf of Iromar be ashamed to wear Iromar's mud? Next, will you tell me to be ashamed of wearing the smell of moors and reeds?" Her voice was sheer innocence, a stark contrast to the amusement of her face. She tilted her head and blinked, her eyelids fluttering like the wings of a butterly. "I have shamed you, little prince. Shall I ensure I wear only the most pristine of furs from henceforth?" She could not help herself - any plan she had in her mind of how she ought to have met him had been made obsolete the moment he had crossed her path. Now, she saw only a little prince who needed lessons just as she had needed. He had to learn pride but not simply pride in himself. Demons were proud, but they were proud of their heritage, their lands, their kin...many things.