Blackfoot Forest the yowling won't cease

Fox briefly wondered how he couldn't understand how walking toward a noise was going to make it louder, but she brushed off her little judgement for now. Perhaps before she had claimed the throne of the creek she would have snickered and told him he was an idiot, she knew that it was more important to play the politics game now. Not that she was willing to play it as cool as some others did, for she had her own way of dealing with things. But Fox knew that she had to appeal to her underlings if she planned on keeping them around. She may have been the glue that kept the creek together, but it was her followers who were the popsicle sticks. Without both of them working together, they were just a bunch of craft supplies.

In place of responding with something snarky, Fox shrugged her shoulders. “I know we didn’t really get to... chat when you arrived,” she replied, emphasizing the word only because she suspected him of not being the chatty type, “but what’s your backstory?” It was an easy question to ask, and although Fox was loathe to go on about her incredibly boring story, she thought it important to know where her followers were coming from and what had brought them here.