Meadowlark Prairie You guide me with your hands

Skipping along the prairie (wow, made it to today-years-old not knowing I didn't spell 'prairie' right my entire life) Sunhawk stopped to smell the goldenrod, sneezing loudly as pollen flew up his mouth and nose like a stonked-up gutter. Blegh! He rubbed the snot off on one dark leg and continued. There was a path that cut through the purple strife and goldenrod, and on a whim Sunhawk followed it.

Wherever this path lead, it didn't lead to shade. Sunhawk darted under a dogwood bush to catch his breath, wondering if he'd see any other giants out this way. Or maybe, they only inhabited the mountains.

Chander pranced about here and there, sniffing at flowers and rolling around in pollen. His already-dirty appearance only looked worse now that he was covered in vibrant pollen dust. He looked like some kind of radioactive science experiment.

Something nearby sneezed and Chander fell flat to the ground like in those old “what to do if a nuclear bomb goes off” commercials. When he didn’t immediately explode or something he jumped up and looked around for the source of the sneeze. “Wazzat? Hullo?” The flowers and bushes hid whomever was there—if they were even still around. “Aww, come out and play!” He thumped his tail on the ground in invitation, his blue-and-green eyes sparkling.

A rustle in the brush was all it took for Sunhawk to be on alert. He wiped the snotty grime of his nose on one foreleg, ears erect as he peered out into the sunny afternoon.

Well, that ain't something you see every day. A wolf, the color of damprot log, dusted off in a film of irradiated yellow so offensive to the eyes it made our poor old boy Sunny squint. Whoever this wolf was, he looked like he'd been dragged through the goldenrod patch on a lark - to the point where Sunhawk could scarcely discern what the man's true pelt shade was.

"Why, thassa nice bit of camouflage you're flauntin' there, pardner." Sunhawk's expression turned to merry cheekiness as he obeyed the pollen-clad wolf's summons and strode out to the clearing. "But what's your purpose, attractin' all the honeybees? They'll be all over you like 'yotes on a drowning deer in a ten thousand year famine, so they will. What's the deal? You tryin' to find a honeysweet mate?"

Finally! This wolf seemed fun, like him, and talked sorta like him, too! “You like my camouflage?” Chander said, moving in a slow circle on the spot as if showing off. “Thank ya!”

’You tryin' to find a honeysweet mate?’

Chander gasped at the man’s question in mock surprise, and then he batted his eyelashes prettily at him. “Why?” he asked, his voice dropping into a sultry tone. “Are you offering?” It was a joke, of course, although Chander was sure he wouldn’t mind being with a man. It wasn’t the gender of a wolf that attracted him so much as their personality. Could they be fun, like him? Or were they boring and grumpy?

Did he like this guy's camouflage?  Is this like those cat groups, where the OP posts a headliner "wromg amswers omly"? Sunhawk wasn't much of a liar, but he wasn't mean either - so he kept (for once) his clap shut and did not answer as directly as he could have.

"Well, it gives ya a powerful aura." He waved off the impulse of a blunt response, settling for a grin made for those who rob cookie jars or are caught red-handed in the pantry. It wasn't every day he was propositioned by a wolf marauding as a honeybee. "Well, I'm sure you'd do me fine, but I'm afraid you lack the necessary parts." Sunny's brows knitted in mock sorrow. "I'm not into honeybees." He explained, grinning now. "Too many pointy ends."

Never one to turn down company, Sunny spent the rest of the afternoon chatting Chander's ears off.