Wapun Meadow bad to the bone

Erika snorted a bit as the fox stated the all to obvious. "So I've seen." It was indeed a pretty meadow, with various species of flowers, weeds, and grasses. Her calm, stoic father Erik might have squealed with delight upon seeing it. How was the old man anyway?

The fox asked of her origin, but she was not very willing to reveal so much about herself. She told the bare minimum to satisfy his insatiable curiosity. "A place very, very far from here. Along a different coast I believe."

Another question was asked and Erika sighed in annoyance. "You ask a lot of questions don't you, petit renard? If you really want to know, my name iz Erika."