Dawnlark Plains I don't want this winding up in the wrong hands

As the distance between them closed, the dark wolf imparted a bit of information that piqued Mojave's curiosity. But it was not the sort of curiosity should have associated with being a good thing. A missing pup, was, well, awful. She couldn't have fathomed how anyone would have dealt with that, let alone someone who was out looking for it.

"That's awful," she said, if only to reiterate her thoughts. "You think it might be out here, somewhere?" And she assumed it was a small child at that, one that could have been so easily plucked off the floor of the plain by a soaring hawk, eagle, or some other avian predator. Her ears flattened against her skull with sympathy; she hadn't come across such a thing at all.

"I mean, I haven't seen a puppy out here, not in the while I've been walking. I'm Mojave, by the way," she went on to add, her name as much of an after thought to the cogs that were turning in her head.