far from perfect

"Sleep," she hums back, nodding, and then glances to him for an instant, back to the flower, then to him again. Coyotes could be tricksters, couldn't they? "Not like, eternal sleep. AKA death," she raises her brows at him, but then laughs. No, no, foxes were the tricksters. As cunning as a fox. He'd given her no reason to be suspicious, and she'd been suffering from some agita lately anyway. A little bit of these white flowers would do just the trick, she imagined, if what he said was true. So without waiting for any real confirmation, Tiger swooped in and disroots the flowers with a grin on her face, nodding at him to continue.