In the quiet moment Quick tried to gather as much as she could as she awaited her judgment, listening intently to the words passed between the two dark wolves of her company. Mrs. Naira, Sir Mapplethorpe? Odd that a pup would refer to his mother and father by such terms... unless he was not their blood. She had never encountered such an arrangement, but that didn't mean it couldn't be possible. So she's here to join right? The boy was bold in his speech as most children were, but not with the air of naivety that so many youth possessed. She let her metallic gaze trail from tree to tree in their surroundings, slowly and finally landing on the nameless boy with undeniable sincerity. "Yes," she said, the syllable smooth and true. Chulyin had brought her, but her resolution had been cultivated on her own and it was important that her agency was recognized, if even by a child.
The call went out, though with a struggle. If she let her mind wander toward it she too could feel the weight of the goat burning on her shoulders. The relief of dropping it tempted her, but it felt disrespectful to their tiresome journey to flop the gift so unceremoniously on the ground. Instead she shifted her weight, trying to rearrange that which sat between her blades, to a more optimal spot where it wouldn’t be such a bother. Quick found out soon enough that there was no such spot. Luckily for her the moment she quit fidgeting would be the moment they were joined by another, an older male who approached with an air that matched the stiffness of the fur along his back. By the command he took of the small gathering she had to assume this was Sir Mapplethorpe.
He was her size, but stockier, worn and sophisticated like a great oak. It was instinctive to divert her eyes, let her tail go limp and twist her ears toward her skull but she did so with extra consciousness. He was quick to dismiss the youth to scout a carcass. His yellow eyes landed on her with a question: short, perhaps not sweet. "Quicksilver, sir, and I-" Her curt response was interrupted by a different nearby call, with a message that lit her weary limbs with fire. The hunt was on again. Her silver eyes flickered toward the Leader's toes as she continued her sentence with an anxious flick of her tail, "I'm going to help feed your family." Not without a price, of course. She needed food and a home herself, but there was no time to negotiate. The air said deer, the howl said coming, and she would be ready.
No longer concerned for ceremony she twisted her body, teeth reaching to grasp the goat and pull it from her and Chulyin both. Perhaps the smell of death would distract the approaching prey from the wolves. Perhaps it would worry them more. She couldn’t work her mind like them; she was a predator. With a meaningful and wide stride the pale lady positioned herself among the twisted trees, dark nose quivering and ears perked forward. If there was a command she would follow it. If not, she would hunt.