Redhawk Caldera westworld

He drew away to look at her and Raven shook her head. "No snow. Just pee," she corrected him with a light laugh. It was true, he carried the pungent musk of urine. They were canines, though, and it wasn't in the least offensive. "If we're going with color codes, you also smell very brown and also a little green." Brown like soil, bark and dead leaves. Green like the last surviving grasses of the season.

Soon her mouth was too busy for talking. Her tongue swiped along the muscles of his neck, mussing up the fur at first before licking with the grain to smooth it back down again. It wasn't long before Raven was methodically grooming every inch of Kaizer she could reach, intent on pulling the bits and pieces of detritus from his fur—including the fur itself, as bits of his undercoat clung to her tongue—to leave him with a clean, smooth, gleaming pelt.