Phoenix Maplewood you are a forest fire, set the world aflame

sorry she's not very nice 8)

Is it your land then?

Thuringwethil takes a moment to consider the question, finally giving herself a chance to look him over. His color and pattern reminds her a little of Magpie. She only has a silvered-white patch on her chest, often hidden by the tussle of the rest of her fur. The rest of him, as impressive as his size may be, he doesn’t seem to know how to hold himself to keep her interest longer than making sure that, even if she doesn’t verbally admit it, that the phoenix’s land belongs to her.

“No,” she finally responds with an indifferent roll of her shoulder, “it belongs to no one.”