Redhawk Caldera runner, runner

Stevie, have you been told recently how fantastic you are? CUZ U IS <3 There's at least one sentence in every post you write that just slays me!

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Though she was amused at first when she thought the girl wasn't truly prepared to accost visitors to the caldera, but as she began to gesticulate in bold confusion, Coy's own alarms began to ring on the situation.

Beryl eyes had grown wide with worry. Had she done something wrong, or worse...

—was this how wolves communicated this far outside of Quebec? Would she have to learn this "language"? Would she have to stop using her beautiful voice in favor of non-verbal signaling and pantomime? Sacré bleu!

Her fears were immediately assuaged by the grey matron's next words, however, and the true nature of Coysevox became apparent as she made a relieved noise before brightening immensely with her previously absent charm. She forgot her insecurities at having found herself on foreign turf, and began to let her tail wag in full-swing mode. It was clear no offense had been taken.

"Oh good! I 'ad t'ought for a moment I 'ad done somet'ing wrong," the French wolf bleated, fixing her tongue as best she could to imitate the preferred accent. "I come from Quebec— a river called Batiscan— maybe a place you 'ave heard of, no?"

"I leave for liberté.. er, freedom!— from my family." The truth came spilling from her lips without a second thought, either as if she had forgotten her intention to lie, or as if it simply wasn't in her to do so. "They wish me to be a-a wife... a trophy," she exclaimed, spitting on the ground to the left of her as she rebuked the term.

"They do not want me being me."

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