Fox's Glade i'm sippin' on my syrup, movin' slow, but i'm still rushin

Although she had laughed and shifted to a posture of submission, Tail had remained tense and defensive— although she had reacted purely on instinct, there wasn't much stopping the white male from responding in kind. She did allow herself to relax just slightly as he laughed with her, and more still when he spoke amicably. He brought up a good point, actually— how did she allow herself to be so thoroughly startled? How did she not hear him coming?

She had been too focused on the glowing eyes and dark silhouettes, she supposed, that her mind had filtered out the sounds of someone approaching. That brought her mind back to what had originally spooked her, and she peered back into the fog. The eyes seemed to be gone; perhaps scared off by the scuffle that nearly ensued.

That was when the male adopted his booming voice, introducing himself and intention to harm. Tail immediately returned her gaze to him, dropping closer to the ground in defense— but even as she moved to protect herself, Luke was dropping the charade and laughing once again. She looked at him suspiciously for a moment, wondering if he was intentionally being cruel... but realized swiftly that she was merely being a scaredy cat, and the fellow before her was nothing but good natured.

"I'm new here," she admitted. "I'm not usually this skittish." How embarrassing.