Qeya River here come the church mice trying too hard

This time when the she-wolf spoke, it was at length, and Mojave instantly picked up on her accent. It was a strange sort of thing, almost stilted in the way it was structured. But to her, it was a captivating sort of thing that reeled her in. It was wonderful, for being so different. She listened to those words as they dropped in and off, and the smile remained on her face.

"Yeah, I figured as hot as it was down here the water wouldn't be so stupid cold," Mojave interjected to agree, only pushing ahead when a question came up. Where had she come from? Well, it was a story. "But I don't really come from anywhere. I mean, the last place I lived in was up north, but not like... way north. It was cooler there, sure, but I mean... it wasn't like snowy all the time or whatever." She couldn't have pinpointed it even if they had been anthropomorphic had a map sprawled out on the ground between them.

"I, uh, I like to wander around, you know?" She laughed as though it would break the sudden surge of awkwardness that came back to her. It didn't, it only sounded nervous to her ears. "There's lots of neat stuff to see in the world and I wanna see it all. But what about you? Have you lived around here long?" She assumed that since the she-wolf was hanging around the river, she must have lived somewhere near it. Maybe there was another pack further down it. Maybe Thuringwethil didn't know about it, since Mojave was certain she had gone in the opposite direction from where heda had pointed out not to go.

Maybe not, though. Who knew.