No one approached her. Not a soul ever dared or even cared to reach out for her company. Why was this one so different? She understood that wolves were social beasts by nature, but for a stranger like him to seek her out when she so clearly is a pariah of their kind… she can’t grasp the meaning of it. So she asks him.

Her eyes flit back up to his eyes momentarily as she speaks, if only to note their mercurial shine before looking back to his muzzle to decipher his words. Her posture remained defensive in its most feral form but the tiniest bit of her was loosening up as moments passed. She could not completely trust him but maybe she didn’t need to be crouched and snarling the entire time. Even still, her hackles remained standing and her ears half-cocked backward.

His reasoning for coming down to her was trivial and only added to the big question of; why her?

But his question, at least, could be answered. ”No,” straight to the point and easy enough. She would rather take advantage of having the higher ground… or to be alone all together. Though she may be able to glean something from his unnecessary presence in some way. ”Teach me,” she demands rather brashly, clearing her throat once afterward as the coarse nature of it finally began to wear off. ”...to use tongue like you do,” she elaborated, unsure that he was insightful enough to determine exactly what she was referring to.

Reaver was not the type of father to pass along impeccable communication skills and her mother wasn’t around long enough to instill much of anything. This stranger may be the key to her finally being able to tell someone to fuck off in full sentences when need be.