Greatwater Lake Sawyer, you're going out a youngster

To avoid just sitting there like some weirdo, Wildfire began to lick her shoulder, though her tongue froze, as did the rest of her body, when the stranger spoke. She remained very still for a few beats, then straightened up and blinked across the way. "Oh, it's just you"? Wildfire didn't know what to make of these words. They implied a certain familiarity, yet Wildfire was almost certain she had never met this wolf before. She was so remarkably pretty, the youth was sure she would have remembered her.

She wanted to respond, yet wasn't sure what to say. "It's me?" she eventually queried, her voice quiet. Her expression conveyed both her confusion and her curiosity. Then, all of a sudden, Wildfire felt a strange sense of guilt. Maybe they had met somewhere along the line and she was just having some sort of embarrassing brain fart. "I'm sorry, I don't think I recognize you," she admitted, the words blurting from her smudged muzzle, her body language likely giving away her social anxiety.