Emberflame Ridge sorry mr policeman, if i wanted to talk i woulda called a friend

sorry about the wait! holiday shenanigans have me in solidarity with ebenezer scrooge

His affable response to her approach set Lusca's dithery neurons at ease and the girl visibly relaxed her clench around the qualms she had about their encounter.

Tagg was quick to identify himself and although her lips bared a plain smile, she could not find a window to offer her own name as he forged ahead with social procedures. "Ahhhh, no, this is all new to me." she explained, staring down at her feet upon the dendrite scarring of the earth once stricken by firebolts. She gingerly traced a paw against the discharge tracks. 

"I'm Lusca. Looks like someone had a bad day here." Her tone was an intarsia of curiosity and perhaps even apprehension as she passed the speaking stick to him -- though there was nary a stormcloud in sight, the landscape and its cauterized wounds left her with conflicted feelings. She hoped, dearly, that the expression "lightning never strikes the same place twice" would prove out -- but the little wolf's history with luck did not leave her with much in the way of assurance.