Chilled to the Bone

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 His stink hit her before he was even close. Blood, rot, disgust... her eyes shone with interest at the monster who might smell so terrible and still come running with such a vengeance. How ironic, had she known the man's name. She swallowed her gulps before he even spoke, licking the blood from her maw and lifting her head to look at him pleasantly, as if she wasn't standing over the dead body of a wolf who definitely did not smell of this man's musk. Her crimson gaze trailed across his imposing form, admiring the fury within him even as he snarled and -

 Oh, the man was growling a pretty tune.

 “I pray forgiveness,” she said, the boy's blood still wet upon her chin, “Where I come from, a pack's claim ends at their borders. This boy - ” she said, pausing to inhale and double check the scents, “He was pitifully weak, would have been a drain on your resources. He spoke of pilfering your prey, your water - of making a mockery of you.” Lies spoken as if they were truths. In fact, the corpse had instead put his attentions on her, thinking her a woman of low expectations. On account of her marred and ripped body, of course.

 She was not a woman of low expectations.

 The witch licked her lips, eyes glistening as she took a step back and lowered her head, nudging the body towards the defending man. “Perhaps a shared meal would be some penance for my inadvertent crime?” She knew not of his tastes, but if his stink told her anything, she knew he was not a man of good morals. Morality... it was something that twisted and shifted and was used to justify all sorts of things.

 If he was, in fact, appalled by her suggestion, then she would figure something out.

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 Ah, so the man wasn't as stupid as his sticky pelt seemed to imply? Perhaps he simply did not care for cleaning himself or perhaps he just preferred a fresh roll in refuse every morning. Surely he must itch? She knew if she didn't wash ever, her coat would tingle with fleas and even just the texture of dirt upon skin. Unlike the man before her, whose grime was clear despite his colours, her white coat would not allow for such extravagant filth.

 Yet, it thrilled her all the same.

 “A mockery unintended, liege!” Andraste remarked at once, “The mockery was from this man - he damn near demanded his own downfall,” Plus, the guy pissed her off and she was hungry, though she wouldn't outright say that much. “Yet I clearly was out of bounds, I apologize.” She wasn't above apologies, especially if it would give her more time to consider this man without his teeth to her throat.

 Lord of filth, I've fought and fucked far larger than you. Yet it seemed the wolves of this place simply did not come as big as she was used to. She was about the same size as she had been in her previous hell, perhaps two inches shorter, but the world she had come from had been full of dires, wolves spanning four foot at the shoulder. Each and every man she had paired with had been no less than massive — 45 inches to be exact lmfao she's from an ice age forum.

 Given the circumstances, she figured he was as large as they came here. He was intimidating, for certain, with his savage teeth and the way he acted like he owned the place. He could claim the world, but how much power could one wolf have? He might have an army behind him, but even the largest packs had to have some order to their domain or their grip over it would thin and weaken. A pack could not be all-powerful and all-containing.

 Still, he claimed her corpse without hesitation. Spoke of her audacity to claim it as partially hers. Well. It was shared, even if he devoured the rest of it himself - for she would not give up what she had already consumed though she did not begin to believe he would not eat it right out of her stomach if he was so inclined.

 Her death would not be at one wolf's jaws, not even a man so imposing as he.

 Yet, her eyes gleamed with reverence and interest, though not for the corpse below. “Your share: the corpse. Mine: perhaps to glimpse a -” Not a king, though that was the word that tempted to escape her lips. She tested the titles she had encountered in her previous life. Perhaps he thought himself a god, that might fit, but no. Ah. Yes. The way he held himself, the savagery, even if not his title, it fit. “-Warlord such as yourself consume some of my offering?” The decision of descriptor had taken but a moment, not long enough to even hint at any conniving.

 The witch wanted to see if he were truly a man of similar taste as she. He had not seemed disgusted with the idea of feeding on their own kind, so there was a chance.

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Apologies for the slight metagame for his title! I wanted her to say it, that's my only excuse lol

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 How unrefined. How despicable. He spat in the face of her gift, mocked her curiosity, and a sick smile hinted on her lips.

 He thought he could throw his weight around and scare her?

 How fascinating.

 The look in his eyes was a familiar one, one she had known time and time again. One she had once feared but no longer, not since her ties to the joys of life were severed, severed like the head of her father at her own behest. “Oh, too bad then!” She would say, keeping a close eye on his approaching form and readying herself for the fight she knew was coming. Blood shed was inevitable, it would seem - this time, she was not outnumbered. Despite the man's clear power and experience in forcing his way, she would not submit.

 Her life was not his to take.

 “I had wished to learn what sort of pack lived here,” she mused, “but I can tell it's my time to leave.” She moved to leave but make no mistake - the woman was watching for the attack she knew was incoming. The moment he moved in on her, she would be quick on her paws to evade and potentially strike back. In self defense, of course.

 “Perhaps we can hunt together... another time.”

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 The witch danced out of the way without hesitation. Had she still a tail, perhaps it would have been snatched, but nevertheless, her body moved away without his teeth grazing it, though hot breath did blast against her as he lunged.

 Ah, a fun game, but she had places to be. So she cackled as she fled with her stolen food safe within her stomach, off into the mist away from the man. Too bad, they could have had some fun. What was with men of this realm, either pitiful fools or too fast to

 Death, may that meat spoil before it even reaches your mouth.

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Exit!

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