Fairspell Meadow I'm forced to deal with what I feel

Thatch went out on a little walk, not knowing what he might find. He'd had a long and stressful day and it was time for a break. It seemed he was getting nowhere with his training. He had to get stronger, better, he had to fulfill his goal. After a while of walking through a familiar meadow, he came to a familiar scent. One that for some reason he didn't have a desire to kill. Lyda. He'd met the girl before, and she moved pretty fast, but he wouldn't mind talking this time. He had stuff to get off of his chest.

He quickly found the female, she looked hungry. He thought about hunting for her, but then screwed up his nose. I don't think nice thoughts. What's wrong with me today? He thought with a soft growl of frustration. The red male came out of the tall grass and into the flowery clearing where Lyda stood and he barked to her in his normal flirty and wicked sounding tone. Hi there, Lyda right?