The magic that flowed through her veins hummed in contentment at the presence of the storm overhead. The young woman had always found herself happiest on cloudy days, when the rain drops danced across her skin and the wind tousled her hair. When others barricaded themselves indoors and longed for sunny days, she had always run outside to embrace the storm and in turn it had welcomed her. She could not count the times when she was young, how she would return soaked to the bone to a worry stricken grandmother who had watched the blonde girl dash off headfirst to chase the lightning. Many times is had also resulted in a lecture about staying safely indoors like the other children, playing in blanket forts and drinking hot chocolate. But the girl was like a small storm cloud, unable to be controlled. Her grandfather, the religious man that he was, always loved to tell her that when God created her, he had trapped a storm in a bottle and released it into her heart, which was why she was so full of life and had always felt her emotions more strongly than others; he loved to call her his little hurricane. Though perhaps the real truth behind her connection to a weather phenomenon and her behavior so similar was due to the fact that the night she had been born, the night her parents had died and the day she had been bitten, a storm had been present outside shedding tears alongside her and thundering with the rage that shook her to her core.

Family was the most important thing to Scarlett. Though she found hate to be a dark emotion, requiring too much energy to withhold for any period of time, those that turned away from their families, scorned their loved ones, always summoned mild levels of hate in the young wolf. What she wouldn't give to have her parent's still alive, taken from her by the hands of another, or her grandparents, lost to time as all mortals eventually are. Her pack was her new family, they had taken her in when she had lost her home, loved her when her grandmother had died, given her a purpose. Of course pack lifestyle was different for the young wolf, hard to adapt to. She had been bitten and deserted, and so she had little semblance on just how to properly interact with other Weres, especially their family structures. It was a miracle she had even survived as long as she had, forced to undergo the change under the full moon by herself, with no guidance or help. How many nights had she struggled to be able to shift back and spent away from home, only to return to a crying grandmother and police presence? How many times has she begged the local witches to help her, brew her some kind of potion to make it easier? How many nights had she cried, alone, forced to hide from her grandparents for fear she would hurt them? And now she had found people who understood her, accepted her and were there for her. She knew she would never give up pack life for anything now that she had it.

Scarlett's onyx nosed lifted to the sky as she scented the moisture in the air and the plants crying out for the rains to quench their thirst. The warm air that smothered her top half contrasted the icy cold water that enveloped her bottom half. She let out a gentle, relaxed hum at the sound of rolling thunder in the distance. Her chocolate and milky cream fur contrasted the surrounding yellows and greens. The wolf had always been prided in her unique coat color, often compared to the coloration of the Osprey. Though it wasn't particularly good for blending in to most foliage, and made it much harder for the wolf to go unnoticed when her coat was such sharp contrast to the world around her. Emerald eyes closed as she intended to fully enjoy the day, and yet her other senses remained on high alert, and for good reason. The sound of heavy footsteps crunching the dead plant life beneath them without care had her chocolate rimmed ears shooting up. Green eyes immediately opened as she turned towards the direction the sound was coming from, and gradually growing louder as whoever, or whatever, came closer to the young girl. Her hackles prickled slightly, increasing her size as a low growl rumbled through her chest, clear warning to the other that stalked just out of sight in the underbrush. They clearly were aware of her presence now if they hadn't been before, but she doubted they hadn't been before. She lifted her lips in clear warning, her ivory daggers a reminder that if the other wanted funny business, she was completely capable of handling herself. Scarlett's head tilted however at the appearance of another Canine.

The low rumbling in her chest did not cease as he made his way right up to her, definitely far closer than she would have liked but she was not about to let him intimidate her into moving and ruining her good day. Green eyes watched him wearily as he boldly placed his two front paws into the water before her, the glint in his eyes and his words still not instilling her with confidence about this stranger. The cream wolf eye'd him up and down, in a different way than she was sure he had done and was doing. This Were was of a species she was vaguely familiar with, but had never seen before. There weren't too many African wild dogs running around in america, of that she was certain. Those radar dish ears and odd splotchy coat color were...intriguing. She gave him a stiff tail wag, an attempt to be friendly but also telling of her uncertainty as the growling within her died down. His greeting however makes her grimace slightly, not quite fond of his use of a pet name and already detailing his personality. "Well I was," she said, her words tinged with slight accusation that he had already ruined her day slightly but not flat out mean. Scarlett rose to all four paws to be closer to his height; if she wasn't small for her species she would be much larger than this male. "I've never seen a wild dog before," she said, attempting to be sociable, but not yet realizing how much of a mistake that would be. She always tried to be nice to everyone she encountered, but was also known to be quite sassy and let lose fiery remarks when she wanted to.