Shy Deer Steppes Spirits in my head and they won't go

The puddle is not large. Perhaps a couple steps across, at most. For this reason, June is not expecting company when Potema enters her field of view and her personal bubble at the same time. Momentarily stunned by Potema's willingness to get so close for a drink when there is surely another puddle somewhere else, June steps back with a prickle of her hackles, but the gentle-mannered girl is not aggressive, only cautious. That caution only grows in leaps and bounds when her eyes catch on Potema's scars, her fogged eye, and the gruesome red something-or-other smeared inelegantly on her face.

Mild-mannered as she is, June isn't one for openly speaking with anyone, let alone someone who looks a bit like a nut. But Potema's abrupt arrival and willingness to draw so near to an unfamiliar wolf interests June for just a moment. She takes several steps to the side, eyeing Potema carefully as she puts some much needed distance between them, before finally murmuring, "hello," in a quiet and whimsical tone.