Fear is for the weak. At least, that is something her brother would say. She could not remember him every showing an ounce of fear. When wolves turned against him all she saw was fury. Fury that led to vengeance, that led to destruction. A destruction that she was often part of, if only by mere presence. She had never known unfettered love. Her father had hated their very existence and she often remembered him spouting off nonsense about abominations, though she could never figure out the cause of such rancor except perhaps the way Blackthorne bucked up to him. Still, she had tried to maintain an even keel between parents and brother, yet always somehow ended up in the shadow of Thorne.

Who Natiya was, what she was, was as much a mystery to her as it was to Elohim. She wouldn’t admit such. Elohim was a strange beast and it is hard to be snappish with him only because such was not her nature. She had been taught an inherent sort of lesson that females submitted to males. Or maybe it was just how used to she was to submitting to her brother, eager to please. Eve had not been the submissive type nor the other females of Blackthorne’s pack; when she considered it, she had been the odd one out.

Where had that left her? Lost, unsettled. Alone.

She does not know what to say to his statement but she certainly feels no small amount of shock at the words. Pale eyes slide to him hesitantly, almost accusingly, as if he is playing with her. ”Why is it a shame?” She tried to hide the words on a soft whisper but they come out loud enough for him to hear, startled. Some part of her felt a clenching, as if she might be needed somewhere. Just as abruptly she begins her walk, annoyed with herself, with him, with everything. Still just as confused.

He is scary because he is different. She has been alone for far too long and before that, surrounded by killers and liars. Yet, strangely, she finds her shoulders relaxing as they move in tandem, a comfort at having someone near. Even if she didn’t trust him. His grin does little to relax her soft features, but it isn’t tinged with venom and she has a hard time stopping herself from relaxing further. I am stupid, she thinks. ”Oh,” she responds to his statement, face relaxing in surprise, head tilting slightly as she considers this. ”I… but why would.. why are you helping me?” What’s in it for you, she wants to ask, but bites back the question, suspicious once more. Trying to be, anyways.

He pauses at her fearful comment about Blackthorne, though she tries her damndest to keep the vein of fear from her voice. Flat. Cold. Unemotional. She could do it – she had lived in a pack that had done it for seasons. It is difficult to hide her relief and Natiya does not realize she gives it away by the swivel of her ears, the way her lean chest seems to deflate as she lets out a silent breath. ”No! I mean, I don’t know where he has been so I couldn’t wait for him.” The one thing she had learned from infancy was being truthful came back to bite you in the ass so she tried to cover up her truth. Elohim was skilled at puzzles but Natiya was a fairly new puzzle maker. All the pieces didn’t fit and she didn’t know how to carve them fast enough. But she knew, in her marrow, if Blackthorne found out she had been hiding from him, she wouldn’t be able to find a place far enough to hide from his wrath. If Elohim figured it out, if he found out and told her brother… he couldn’t know.

She was fast getting a headache from this interaction. I should have stayed on the island, she thinks. At least I didn’t have to deal with so many questions.

He spins to face her and she side-steps slightly, once more going on the defensive, delicate paws braced to sprint if need be. Blackthorne was not a popular guy, though she didn’t think he had really done anything to piss of Eden, and therefore Elohim. Still, he was crafty and it wasn’t like she was privy to his topmost secrets. Fallen ears prick slightly at his strange question. Natiya cannot tell if he is asking because he thinks she is stupid or if he is angry with her and she hates the feeling of being on uneven footing. She frowns, eyes bouncing back and forth between his orange ones. ”Isn’t blood supposed to be the most loyal?” She counters. ”You live here so that is what a pack member is supposed to do,” she hedges, not quite answering what she thought of him, not quite answering what he thought of her.

She might be a traitor at heart but in the open, she needed to be a mystery.