Redhawk Caldera on a cloudy day

It was dad who answered her call, and her tail waved wildly at the sight of his approach. Grinning broadly in turn at him, Clover darted around him and went to lap at his chin affectionately before she remembered what it was she wanted after he asked. Oh! she chirped, Follow me!!! and then she darted back from whence she came, arriving to one of the very spots she had found that smelly smell. Once she arrived, Clover lowered her nose, sniffed, and then looked to him. 

What's that smells? She inquired with a tilt of her head. She was still learning not to attach "s" to everything, and for the most part her speech was developed it was not yet totally perfect. Clover had no impediment, though, and spoke as any would at her age—sometimes with errors, sometimes without.