"I'm not sure anyone ought to meet Granny," she counters, before losing her train of thought as Isabela's lips press against the pale scar, a rare mark left by silver piercing the Wolf's hide. For a minute she just looks at Isabela, brow pinched before her fingers finally grasp the drink properly.

It's rare, the contact, and she closes her eyes and smiles in a faintly incredulous why am I saying this sort of way, "Uh." (Promising start, Red.) "Do you mind doing that again?"