Dawnlark Plains a bird in the hand is worth a lotte in the bush

He was pretty intent on those birds, but even he couldn't miss the unguarded sound of another's approach - certainly not the sound of her voice, despairing in another language. His ears quirked toward the sounds long before she came into view, and by then, the birds were all but forgotten. Day wagged his tail as he felt her eyes on various parts of his body, and distantly, he found himself thinking he must've been something of a strange sight. Most of the snow had been shaken out of his fur, but not all, and more than that, the way he was sprawled out right now probably wasn't too dignified - Somehow, the idea that she might think he was posing for her didn't bother him too much.

Because, well, maybe he'd always been drawn to women with darker fur or maybe there was just something in the water, but she was a sight for sore eyes. Lotte, he reminded himself, said her name was Lotte...

"Pleasure," he said at last, having still not gotten around to rearranging his limbs. " 'm Day," he added, glancing back toward where the birds were still playing. There was a thorny bush between them and the birds that offered little in the way of cover, but seemed to be barrier enough for the birds to feel brave. Day was feeling pretty brave himself. His eyes went back to Lotte, and wagged his tail again when he saw that she was still there. "Well, what're you doing up there?" he teased, tipping his nose toward the snow beside him. "Get down - they'll see you!"