Aibhilin did her best to hide a scowl behind her smile. That was till she ended up alone with the blue-eyed ghostly brute. Hearing him speak made that false smile melt right back down into a scowl that could curdle milk. Whipping around on him she poked a finger at him, red faced and eyes blazing. 

[color=82ca9d]"Ye bet yer fancy fur covered tush yer not going to!"[/color] she whispered harshly, 
[color=82ca9d]"Ye think we all donna know that ye lot came here to do? You, Lord Wolf, mind yerself. You stay far from the maids around here and ye'll see yourself right as rain and on your kindly way in no time."[/color] Her bright green eyes burned and her jabbing finger turned itself into a fist. 
[color=82ca9d]"You..."[/color] she was practically shaking in anger, 
[color=82ca9d]"You, [i]a-and yer blue eyes[/i], stay faaaar away, alright? I know these halls like the back of me own hand. You step one wee toe outta line and I'll make yer pleasant lordly little stay a nightmare ta rival the Christian Hell! Ye hear?!" [/color]

She wanted to rail at him for things he might of done had they not stopped him and his men at the fields. It was a weakling's fear in her that had turned into an angry outburst. Ach, and even her voice had wavered when she had so harsh whispered what she really just wanted to wail. And what's more, she was angry at herself too. For letting this wolf sink into her head like a foolish girl who fancied fantasy over reality. No. She was not a girl. And she did not fancy any man, much less this one. He would prove himself to be ever bit as boorish and brutish and arrogant when he would run to her father to tattle on her for having a sharp tongue. Like the boy he was.

Sky God see her, she wanted to bury him in the ground as much as she wanted to sink into herself right now. A fine situation she had hissed her way into. Now he had her by the very tongue that she had so willingly lashed at him. Accursed temper! Why did that sound of the low and seemingly gentle voice make her flare up from her toes like keg of powder? She knew why. She had snapped at him because the hushed voice he had used on her had fit itself to those sky blue eyes; a fitting voice for a girlish daydream figure. And her reaction to it had tipped her temper over the edge. How could she let herself be so shamelessly effect by this-this-this barbarian?! Pretty eyes and honeyed voice be damned, he was still a wolf! And she would not, no, could not stand the thought of him using such foreign sorcery on her. Much less any other more innocent and girlish daydreaming lass in the village. If he could get to her so easily, he'd have the entire village's population of women folk on their knees begging to be stolen away by him in his dragon ship.

So help her she not let it happen. And she wouldn't let his Viking magic get to her either. Swooning girl, ha! She was a McConnich daughter of chieftain and warrior blood! Aibhilin refused to let some [i]barbarian[/i] turn her into something she was not. Clicking her tongue at him, she lifted her head high and pointed to the metal basin before the hearth.

[color=82ca9d]"That there is where they set the washing tub,"[/color] she raised a brow, [color=82ca9d]"Ye should wash yerself before supper, [i]my Laird[/i], and a set of clean clothes are on the bed."[/color] She waved a hand side to side. [color=82ca9d]"I'll be outside yer door to see ye find yer way to the Great Hall."[/color] Keep you're enemies close they always said. Well she wasn't going to let him out of her sight.