Duck Lake weeping willow

Had Fox been more observant, she may have picked up on the accent that Bjorn spoke. However, it had taken her days to realize that Sveinn and Njal spoke the same language, so it was really no surprise that she lacked the attention to detail to discern Bjorn's place of origin. “Fox,” she replied, quick to give away her name. Knowing that some mistook it for her pointing out an actual fox in the vicinity, she clarified. “That’s my name, I mean. I’m Fox.” She'd heard plenty of jokes about her name, but she tended to ignore them these days.

Bjorn's demeanor immediately reminded her of Haunter, though she could not say why. Perhaps it was just because she had been comparing everybody she saw lately with her one-eared roomie. She was still sorting out what things were between the two of them, but had ultimately decided to table it for the time being. She still had a whole year before she was going to go flaunting her little bum-bum in front of all the males.