Bearclaw Valley tuck your tail and run

He was greeted in due time, and Ovaltine averted his eyes. "No need for alarm," he replied. "Just getting the lay of the land. My name's Ovaltine Driftwood. Does your land have a name?" If somebody had ever followed him around, they would have realized that he was practically reading from a script these days. He always made sure to defuse any worries first, then he would introduce himself, and then he would ask for the name of the place. It was simple, really, and rarely caused any alarm bells to go ringing off. He didn't press for information, knowing that he could always get it somewhere else if he needed to.

A quick glance to the lady who had greeted him granted him with additional information. She carried herself well, but a keen eye could identify that she was carrying a litter. Not that it made much difference to Ovaltine. Except for the very likely chance that she wouldn't take as kindly to flirtatious advances. Then again, he'd been surprised in the past.