Kintla Flatlands I hear my home callin'

Fox pouted when he insisted on calling her Lil' Weenie again, but she made no verbal protest. It wasn't the worst thing in the world to be called, and it would allow her to think up a stupid nickname for him as well. She would have to think on that one, though, since her mind was not as quick as her legs. The swarthy black male introduced himself as Perry, and if he had said his name when they had met before, she had not remembered it. Now, of course, she would. Repetition was the best way to learn!

She spotted him looking back at his home, and she figured he was anxious to get back to it. Considering Fox had another stop on her list before heading home herself, she knew she would eventually have to part ways with him. "Gotta make sure those borders are secure," she thought.

The yearling could not help but wag her tail in delight when he labeled her as a friend. Perhaps he meant it only in the broadest of terms, but he seemed to get her strange sensibilities. It was possible that her antics would one day get her killed, but she was much too naive to understand that now. “To be fair,” she began, “I’m not actually on your borders this time.” She had only shown up there once before. “Swiftcurrent Creek is not terribly close. I just get wandering feet. There’s a pack between mine and yours that I’ve yet to test. That's actually where I was headed, and then somehow I got sidetracked and saw you over this way.”