The albino girl padded her way, following Ares after the meeting’s conclusion. She did not have much of a choice, being auctioned off essentially by Beartooth. Frankly, Dwyn wasn’t ready for all this change. She was not fond of the rules of Tarben, why did she have to be born there? She could not escape either without being searched for, after all, she was a granddaughter to Beartooth, so as she was of some royalty, she assumed she’d be searched for. Additionally, she was not aware of any other albino wolves that lived in Starfall, aside from those in Tarben’s snowy lands – so she would likely be turned away from many other packs she’d try to find solace in.

“Hello, Dwyn. I am Ares. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you at least know of me?” Dwyn was brought out of her displeased stupor by his words, at least turning her attention towards him as he spoke. Ares, huh? Frankly she might have heard his name around but did not pay much attention to the other members names. She would find her way out of Tarben eventually. ”Vaguely.” She spoke, answering his question, but keeping it short. She rolled her violet hued eyes, making sure to keep them away from the sun most of the time. She, unlike her two other albino siblings who had mother’s red eyes, had light purple eyes – a combination of her mother’s hueless red and her father’s lake blue eyes.

Whenever they made it to their destination, she would sit and would do her best to avoid eye contact with Ares aside from the occasional glance as he may talk or just to peruse him over – he was pitch in color – a polar opposite to herself, with brown eyes. As much as it was nice to be with someone different, this pairing was not under her own terms. She would wrap her tail around her side, waiting for that eventual pushing by Ares to let him mate with her. All the males in Tarben were desperate, except Maurepas. Her mind flicked to him – he could leave whenever. No ties were holding him here. She sighed, looking to the side and speaking, the tone of her words completely opposite of the usual tone for the sentence. ”Ares, why would you choose me?” She was not insecure – she knew she was pretty and a rarity with her essentially amethyst eyes. She was more hinting at that she was probably one of the most difficult of all the females up there. The polar opposite of Eyre. At the thought of her, being claimed by Phobus, she scoffed. ”There were clearly some more desperate lasses up there that would follow your every command, easily. Yet...you choose probably the most difficult one up there.” She’d attempt to meet his eyes, her own expressing similar to what a sarcastic ‘really’ would look like.

Actions and Thoughts and "Words"