Duck Lake weeping willow

Fox had been in a trance-like state, her eyes watching the waddling creatures as she thought about them. It was not until the stranger's bark that she broke her gaze away from them and let her eyes linger on the male. He looked a mess with half of his face more or less destroyed, but Fox knew these were not recent injuries. Not wishing to challenge him (for she was still in the process of healing), Fox quickly moved her gaze to somewhere that was roughly his chest. The yearling stood stilted, not sure what he was after, but also willing to stick around and see what he wanted with her.

While she awaited some kind of greeting, she wondered if Haunter was nearby. Her ears pivoted back to the creek for a moment as if to listen for him, but she did not sense him nearby. No sense of panic dwelled in her, though she knew that if the stranger had ill will, there would be little she could do to stop him. In her weakened state, she would be like butter under a hot knife. But perhaps he was the friendly type, and the appearance of his face had been caused by other, less malicious things.