Brilliant, yellow irises drifted toward Thortan with his latest round of commentary, a sound similar to 'tchah' offered under her breath. The woman bore no fur, nor was she overtly wolf like save for the canines that extended within her mouth. Had it not been for the eyes, she'd have been mistaken as human. A sigh escaped too at the utilization of the word pup and she shook her head.

The cigarette itself had been snuffed out, her hand coming away from the hilt of her blade as she let the half finished smoke disappear in a brief swirl of shadow magic. "I won't smoke in the common areas, but I'll be damned if you tell me I can't smoke in my own room." A quiet had settled over her features as she returned her gaze to Ophelia, a brief smile coming to her lips.

[Not in 'English'!]"The god my people worship granted us a blessing based in rage, as well. Like the territorial instinct of a wolf we growl, snap and bite at those that even appear to wrong us. Calming the anger was the first step to learning how to navigate our gifts. It appears we have a thing or two in common." The words did not come out in the common dialect of the humans, but rather in the native tongue of the desert elves. It was smooth and without error, though it was the most common form of the language, and not spoken with any particular dialect in mind.