Apparently it would be in her best interest not to speak another language. She noticed how he stared at her in shock and awe. Whatever this angelic language was, whatever these ‘Angel’ words were, it was a huge deal that she knew how to speak it. Whatever this language was, Ayal warned her that it would get her killed. Yet this was the second time she spoke this peculiar language. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Another wolf taught it to her when she was a pup, and whoever taught her, was not supposed to. Oh well. She knew it. It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. With her amount of traveling she never came across another that spoke this language and she was shocked to hear there was an entire pack that spoke it. Sadly she was not interested in meeting members from that pack. If they produced a spoiled prideful brat like Ayal, then she had no business associating herself with them. Shrugging her shoulders up and down she ignored his shocked face as she explained to him what she knew.

“You are the second one to ask me that…a pup named Ayal was highly upset that I knew this language.”

Shaking her head at the slightest thought of that annoying whelp left a distaste in her mouth. Half-torn ear would twitch in his direction atop her crown as she cocked her head to the side listening as he took in her advice. She would give him a half nod at the mention of the past leaving scars. Her ebony fur was mixed with different shapes and sizes of past scars from old hurts or attacks. The three claw marks that etched permanently in her face served as a reminder every day. Every time she looked at her reflection, or ran her tongue over the patterns along her muzzle, she knew the pain that came from it. It was something she never discussed nor wanted to try to recall. The way the moon’s silver rays were touching her obsidian form, they would cause the various scars that scattered along her agile frame to shine brightly, each one unique and special in their own way. If scars could be special. Each one that flawed her frame told a story, some of pain, some of valor, and some of stupidity, yet no matter who caused her to have such scarring it didn’t matter. The important thing was that she was alive.

Lying on her back being forced to be in a submissive position was agonizing for her. Never had she experienced such humiliation. Not once did she ever submit to everyone and although truly she wasn’t doing such a thing, the pain of lying on her back was there. Her auids were pressed tightly against her ebony head, he would see her grey v-shaped marking perfect along her chest and thick neck fur. Indigo eyes narrowed as she felt for his underside with her back paws, quickly kicking them upwards ignoring his plea. As she tried rolling back on all fours, she would smack him with her ebony tail, trimmed with grey, right across his muzzle with a hard smack. It was difficult to say if it was out of spite or play.

Heading for the end of the ledge she lied down gently crossing her front legs over not bothered with her paws hanging from the end. Her tail would curl up along the side of one leg, covering her paw as she sighed in content able to breathe once more. She could hear the click of his nails pounding the hard ground below, but she didn’t not move her head to face him. Rather she kept her gaze at the horizon enjoying the night view. She felt his form press up against her and out of habit a low growl rumbled in her throat and down to her belly, as she felt his fur entwine with her own. She scoffed and shook her head as she gave him a scathing look her voice returned cold once more.

“Of course I am warm, I have fur.”