Kitamba--Healer's Apprentice--Fae
Kitamba happily rose to her feet, plodding along in the snow behind Aiyana. As she heard the discourse between Aiyana and Acheron, she giggled to herself. She then remembered a nickname she once had...'Kit'. She hadn't been called that for such a long time. She looked over at Savage and Acheron, and attempted to wag at the two of them, but her attempted wag came out as more of a lopsided circle. She berated herself mentally for her awkwardness, before deciding that she would do something to make up for it. She lifted her head from it's drooping position, puffed out her white chest, and strode forward, still staying a pace behind her mentor. Had it not been for her knees shaking, she would have looked downright regal.
Ah, well. She tried.
Her regal posture was shattered as a smattering of howls and strange scents touched the air, causing her to stumble forward, burying her nose in Acheron's chest fur. The wolven profanities that went through her brain at that moment were exemplary, and as she staggered backwards, not even her winter fur could hide the flush that rose to her muzzle. Her eyes were wide, and her tongue-tip protruded from her muzzle ever so slightly, in a comical look of surprise. She looked to Aiyana for some sort of help, before dipping her head lightly.
"S-s-sorry..." she stuttered lowly, refusing to make eye contact with the Alpha brute.
Savage~Lead Hunter~Brute
Savage was on the verge of laughing when he watched Kitamba try to look regal. She had it in her, he had to give her that. Most shy wolves stayed in their bubble once born that way, but she had potential. He respected that. He shared a look with Aiyana as though to say: "You picked a good one.", a light smirk on his muzzle. He probably would have laughed at Kitamba's next stunt, had the act that caused it not been so alarming. He crouched into a defensive posture, snarling. His senses were attacked by strange wolvens on the territory...and, his past haunted him to the extent to where that meant danger. His eyes darted up to Acheron for some sort of command, his ears folded back and snarling, scarred face low to the ground. The brute was loyal, if not a little bite-happy. He made a good leader, and was ever-alert to matters such as outsiders. He typically wouldn't attack until provoked, however, as that was the warrior code he came from.