Hoshor Plains Bright Lights, Bigger City

Tomahawk licked her lips, taking in the words of the stranger at face value. "Fine. This is Hoshor Plains," the coyote replied. "What more do you wish to know?" As a slave, there was only so much information she could provide, especially considering she was not sure how Rakharo would take to bleeding information to outsiders. Perhaps he would want their culture to remain inside, not for the eyes of others. It was a question she would bring to him in time. Tomahawk did not aim to be a pestering little child. She was a slave, and she did not wish to make her masters slaves to a questioning peasant.