Cricket Creek Bog soar higher than the stars

To say that Voodoo was graceless around the opposite sex would be too kind, and he realized with some trepidation that this was a girl. Not just that, but she was sort of pretty. At the very least he was nothing like him, all sharp edges and dark scraggly fur. She came near worldlessly, yet in the same movement looked away, feigning disinterest. Girls! he thought, and drew nearer as well, sniffing cautiously. She hadn't said anything yet, but she didn't seem to need to. She was expressive enough that thus far he understood her curiosity, and he was fairly certain she already had him all figured out. There wasn't much to learn, after all. From her scent he learned that she was alone. I'm Voodoo, he said nervously.