She ran her pale eyes over the Tainn woman as she integrated the identification with her appearance. Borlla, of Magnolia Glen. And a Leader, no less, even though she hardly seemed any older than Fiora was! "I don't see any magnolias around here," she remarked hoping the gleam in her eye came off as playful and not snarky; for once she actually didn't mean it that way.

Their introductions had eased her a bit, which was undone by Borlla once more mentioning her earlier fault, which was even further undone when she uttered those words: You seemed to be doing a good job... oh, that was just the air her ego needed to inflate once more. The feeling of success warmed her skin as she tried very, very hard not to let the pride seep into her posture. There was nothing quite as dorky as getting overly excited at every compliment - which, even though Fiora certainly did, she was at least apt enough not to show it. The brief exhilaration she got from the stroke was enough to dull any whiplash from her split-second mood-switching and make her at least momentarily more pleasant company.

"I was just being cautious," she explained, which was a white lie if she dared to admit it. Fiora let her ice-blue gaze wander the red ferns once more, as if someone else might appear out of the foliage. "I'm not really familiar with these parts so I had to, you know?" A little quip lay on her tongue about having been out for a stroll, lookin' for some tails, but she figured it was too soon for that. For now she'd keep stepping on egg shells.

At Borlla's smile and remark Fiora could not help but become a mirror, an idle smirk adorning her expression as she imagined a wall of trees sudden on the horizon. She could believe it, given that they were currently surrounded by an absurd amount of violent red ferns. A bunch of pink trees around this place wouldn't seem out of place at all. Fiora wondered if she ought to drop mention that she was jealous, because she thought magnolias were oh so pretty, but she was too busy imagining herself frolicking through a flurry of pink petals and the moment flew by. Oops.

Now actually conscious enough of her company not to be rude, she was pleasantly surprised when Borlla agreed with her statement. "I know, weird, right?" she blurted about the untouched nature of these parts, the agreement perpetuated by some sort of natural and semi-annoying response the girl had in her genes. She even had the decency to look somewhat bashful of her suspicious behavior, momentarily glancing away and flicking her rusty ears back. She took the subject change gratefully, then, tilting her head as though she were contemplating the life.

Now the truth rested between her idly closed jaws, pressed up against her teeth. It sucks. I hate it. I don't like to be alone. I wish I had friends and somewhere safe to sleep at night. But that's not what she was going to say. Her words had to be selected with the utmost of care because while Fiora certainly had an undeserved pride to uphold, she also did not want Borlla to go away now. "It's" great? swell? alright? okay? "fine. Being independent is really, uh, nice. I should find a home maybe soon, you know, realistically I guess." Fiora puffed her chest out a little, trying to look nonchalant or maybe suave about it, rather than just sad.

"I have been out west," she admitted, recalling the adventure. It hadn't sucked, but it hadn't been much of anything special either. "But there was nothing eye-catching about it." Somehow some way she'd ended up through these parts. The lanky yearling was sure it had more to do with just a random flight path rather than her actual preference, but now that Borlla had mentioned it she felt almost an aversion to the western end of the Lore.

Some part of her brain was still stuck on Magnolia Glen, and having become more worried about her current situation since the discussion began the tawny she-wolf could not help but want to steer the conversation back in that direction. But how? For one thing she was too proud to be desperate, and for another nobody wanted a desperate wolf any way. Deep down she was worried that she was utterly useless, but the hard-headed part of her that had come out of neglect was certain that she was worth something and whatever that something was, maybe it was something Borlla could use.

It didn't seem as though the white lady was going to bring it back up any time soon, so Fiora was left to look for loose threads that might lead them back. "Nothing like magnolia trees," she tried, though Fiora feared her attempt was too thinly veiled. Not that she realized she was grinning like a nervous idiot, or anything. "I bet it's very pretty where you live. I'd like to see that." Nailed it...?

To be honest she was impressed with Borlla's worldiness and she didn't even know the half of it. This lady knew the entirely of the expanse that lay on the other side of the Mountains and now she was here, too? Fiora pressed her lips together in a thin line and tried to promise herself that one day she would be so accomplished too - but it was hard to imagine herself traipsing around the world when all she really wanted to do was find someplace stable to be.

For a moment she was in disbelief at her changing luck. Her suggestion had been (through her obviously skewed perception) casual, but Borlla had taken it just the way she'd wanted her to. Oblivious that this had been the tangerine-eyed woman's intention as well Fiora imagined herself victorious - but only for a moment. As Borlla went on she held fast on to her every word. Of course, it was no great surprise that she would be expected to hold her weight in a pack, but the idea of failing gave her enough anxiety to humor the idea of flight. Nah, she didn't have to do this - not today.

Ugh, no, the lie was just not believable to her this time. "I can do things," she retorted, though she had the grace to hide most of her indignity. "Not just failed stealth missions neither. I can hunt. I can watch borders. I can keep tabs on everyone and everything. Whatever ya need." Which was not a gross exaggeration. All she needed to do was consider something her's and that jealous eye would not let anything pass. And I can too be respectful. The tip of her tail curled toward her belly as it waved between her heels a steady beat of suppressed excitement, letting her legs fold so that her tawny underbelly approached the ferns beneath her. Her blackened ears twisted to fall against her skull and she let her pale gaze shift off-sides, though she stared at the red leaves with a righteous reverence. See? she insisted of the ferns. I can too do anything.

As Borlla's jaws withdrew from her own she tilted her muzzle upward, pink tongue brushing against the underside of her Leader's jaw. Something excellant had happened in lieu of the initial rigidity of their interaction and though Fiora was incredibly proud, she was not too proud to be ungrateful. Her posture picked up, but only slightly. Despite herself she found composure hard to keep, the swing of her tail increasingly intense as it brushed against her tawny hocks.

"I'm not gonna let you down," she insisted. How unbelievable, she found a place that she wanted to be. At Borlla's insistance that her place would be found among the wolves of Magnolia Glen (she still wasn't over how pretty it sounded) it began to set in her bones that her luck had changed. Someone damn well liked her enough to let her in to their home, and there she would make friends that weren't her mother or sister or father, and maybe she'd make something of this once-stagnant life after all.

Eager more than ever to show that her promise wasn't just some smoke and mirrors, Fiora could hardly bear the tease that she was so close to her new pack, but not there yet. So when Borlla tempted the question, Would you like to go home now? she wasted hardly a moment in replying. "Would I ever." Fiora returned, a cheeky grin lighting up her ruddy face. For once she was fine that the spotlight would not touch her - perfectly happy, in fact, to let the pale woman lead the way home.