<div class="floatright">(http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/Amber_1280x420.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Amber Vanlaer<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Steve Matthews/Open<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gathering<br/><hr/><br/>"What's wrong? You weren't looking for the furry Woodstock? You can feel it too just like the rest of us, buddy, which means don't be surprised if you stumble across a little more than heavy petting." Imitating his gesture around the area, Amber's growl subsided, but the hard line in her brows didn't. She kept her eyes on his once they were there, simply to let the stranger know her level of dominance. Old habits seemed to work the best in an area this thick with wolves, and she wasn't about to forget them now. First impressions were everything.<br/><br/>"... and lest you think the whole of Chicago has housed all these brethren of ours for years and you just happened to miss the memo, we're<em>all</em>sort of new in town. I don't know shit about this city, or these wolves, or you." Shifting her weight from one to the other, Amber folded her arms, palms resting at her upper arms, and gave her unknown company a pointed stare. One that more or less burned a loud,<em>well?</em>.