Golden stud seems to have done harm of some sort to Phaedra, of what kind Lakota doesn't know. She doesn't babysit the young mare, after all. Even so the thought that this stallion, conscious of his actions or not as he alludes to being, has hurt a member of the Grey boils something inside her. Violet eyes narrow in a minuscule fashion. Hardly noticeable to anyone other than herself. The Grey will never replace her real family, but they are fast becoming an awkward sort of second. Everyone is awkward in some way here, but they are no doubt close. Loyalty to even those she doesn't know makes her desire for equal exchange of pain flourish. But this is Phaedra's battle, and she seems to be handling it well. All these emotions are kept inside, transpires in the safety of her mind where nobody can see and does not reflect on her visage. Lakota has perfected vapidness. 

His amusement at Phaedra's failure only makes a cold smile stretch her lips. She knew of the orders sent out to the whole group, to inform herd members of the Grey. It would seem Phaedra had done well, then. Silly little stallion, assuming as he did. Phaedra seems to know this too, replying. Lakota cares not for what she says, for he rolls his eyes as he turns to her and she sneers. What a little brat. Thinking he can act in such a way when he is in their forest. A distraction? A place to chat? "This is no homeless shelter. We are no silly band meant for distracting or babysitting petty runaways." She senses another then as she lets it slide from her lips, insulted that he thinks of them so lowly. It is Ophelia, and violet irises turn to her snowy form. When she speaks she echoes both Lakota's thoughts and words, though her tone is soft where Lakota's is cutting. Allowing far more leeway than Kota. So far she is not in the least impressed by this foolish man, flirting and being overall disrespectful. He is childish in her eyes, but Lakota has always been a rather fierce and unforgiving judge. It isn't easy to make her like you. Ophelia allowing him to stay, for even a tiny while, is enough to dig beneath her skin. She for one will not tolerate his presence. He could go galloping off with the other bird, she couldn't care less. They are mercenaries, and their visitors should be hoping for business, not a fling to keep themselves entertained. No matter how she feels she keeps her face still and cold. Refusing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing she wants him gone, the bird brain. She isn't kind like Ophelia, especially not in her thoughts. With his cocky attitude she would sooner show him her backside than entertain him. Rafe has gone silent and she follows suit, eyes sharp as the gem they take after. She may not like it, but she would do as her leaders said. But if he even stirred the waters one bit he would regret it. This wasn't the best group to play with after all. Because they didn't necessarily "play nice".

Another appears, this time beside him. Telling him not to move into their midst. Lakota coos in her mind, quite pleased by her proposal. Yes, do as she says. For the love of my Goddess please take your ugly smug face away from my home. When she says he is fit to lead she is caught between wanting to snort or laugh out loud. She merely smirks to herself instead, amused. Him, a leader? Lakota had only seen arrogance so far. Then again she only knew him for a few short moments. Did she care? Not a bit. She was a judgmental bitch and she knew it. The femme seems to be a leader but her scents are a confusing mix of Foothills, Throat, and the woods. What in the world? Kota falls to the background, amused by this turn of suddenly dramatic events.