At Shadow Lord the Ahroun's expression shifts momentarily, a wary light entering otherwise curious eyes and Morgan's gaze skims over the male's form head to toe. It's a direct sort of inspection, more Garou than human and while there's the faintest hint of a blush blossoming on the Fianna's cheeks, she manages to sound at once flattered and put out. "Well I'm not one o'their Guardians - " She fidgets with her sleeve, then pushes to her feet. There's nothing particularly graceful in the movement, Morgan's more instinct than grace but there's none the less nothing off putting in her appearance.
By regular teenage standards, she'd probably be considered attractive. Tall and slender, but with meat to her bones; endurance visible in the shape of her calves through the give in the denim as she moves, there's certainly nothing willowy about her despite the fact she seems slightly flustered by the newcomer's request. "I think it was this way," she directs and begins off with very little leeway for the Ragabash to decide if he's tagging along or not, long legs eating up the ground beneath their easy stride.
"You're pretty polite f'a Shadow Lord," she opines as they navigate the Bawn, the Fiann's hair dancing around her shoulders like flames licking at the air. She tosses a assumptive look his way, almost daring the contradiction. "Most I've met aren't much for apologizin'." A beat. "Or askin' for help, now that I think abou' it."
Once she's begun, it appears talking isn't a rarity for the Ahroun. Though carelessness regarding what she says on the other hand - "So where are you from? Senpu," she's sounding out his name like she's reading something unusual off a menu, "isn't a name you hear often."
By regular teenage standards, she'd probably be considered attractive. Tall and slender, but with meat to her bones; endurance visible in the shape of her calves through the give in the denim as she moves, there's certainly nothing willowy about her despite the fact she seems slightly flustered by the newcomer's request. "I think it was this way," she directs and begins off with very little leeway for the Ragabash to decide if he's tagging along or not, long legs eating up the ground beneath their easy stride.
"You're pretty polite f'a Shadow Lord," she opines as they navigate the Bawn, the Fiann's hair dancing around her shoulders like flames licking at the air. She tosses a assumptive look his way, almost daring the contradiction. "Most I've met aren't much for apologizin'." A beat. "Or askin' for help, now that I think abou' it."
Once she's begun, it appears talking isn't a rarity for the Ahroun. Though carelessness regarding what she says on the other hand - "So where are you from? Senpu," she's sounding out his name like she's reading something unusual off a menu, "isn't a name you hear often."