Whitefish River I can show you your 'Devil'.

Was she...flirting? Or trying to find a spot to first disect him? If anything, body language was just as indetermanent as actual words, and confusion plagued him at this analytical circle she performed on him. Sizing the brute up as though he were some kind of meal she wanted to have a slight taste of.

That flash of banner wriggled splendidly under his chin, inviting him to smell what he could of her. A single whiff showed an image in his mind of a single and mingly girl. A raised brow from the dark navy beast pinged a questioning arc of tail on his own rear, the flag's eng curving just slightly at the tip. "J'us sari kia sudas?" he asked with those growing baritones of his, almost wildly sure she could somehow understand him. Common sense ran through the hormonal wolfdog and he realized she more than likely wouldn't know what in the hells he was saying. Instead he decided to wag that tail of his in a quick swish of friendliness as he advanced. Crown up and slightly tilted forward, large chest held frontly, he made a slow series of steps towards her.

He couldn't exactly tell if she was in heat or not, but if she was offering herself like this, it couldn't have been too far away. Stopping himself in her mist, he questioned himself. Was she even inviting him that way? She could have just been introducing herself, and he could have been making an ass of himself, right now. She wasn't making too much apparent, and again the over analyzing killed him. Hellish orbs landed on the mitchmatched gems of her own, a coy flavor of colors that both tricked and treated him a bit.

The hell did she want, then? His name?