Flycatcher Downs Though I am old with wandering

Well, that wasn't very helpful. Saena's muzzle wrinkled further when Fox spoke next, but smoothed out again when she mentioned a completely unfamiliar name. What was up with this woman, anyway? Saena leaned back on her haunches til her rump touched the ground and, seated imperiously, fixed the tiny red wolf with a cold and confused stare.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, lady," she revealed as she panned her ears to the side, "or how you know my name, but you do whatever you want." Short of being disrespectful or aggressive, Saena had no reason to worry about what Fox did now, though she couldn't quell her unease about the whole thing. If only she could reach into her missing memory and recall what it was about red-haired wolves that made her feel naturally mistrustful of them, maybe it would make more sense. There had to be a reason. She wondered idly if it had something to do with this weirdo, who seemed to know her, somehow.