homra-no-artemis
( ‘hunting grounds’ … ) a strange term, yet one which stirs faint wariness within her. there is an odd sensation which radiates from the woman before her (appearance just as odd), and one she is unable to place – it is a most unusual circumstance.
caution is a wise air to hold, even for one such as herself.
“ah… i would recommend the next ward over. not this one.” words nonthreatening, her relaxed demeanor offers viability to the ease she presents. “this territory is already claimed. next one over is, too, but it wouldn’t be my problem there.”
PERHAPS THE OTHER’S LACKING CONCERN was noteworthy. it takes a degree of blasé to proffer such pragmatism in response to vague threat of violence. ❝ you're too kind. ❞ the compliment carries a tinge of facetiousness. medusa turns to face this stranger properly, in her snake-like entirety.
the problems of others were not her own, and man-made bounds of territory were hardly her concern humans were humans, and food is food.
❝ for being claimed territory, i’ve not been contested since i’ve arrived, however short a time ago. or perhaps that’s why you are here, hm? ❞
















