Hoshor Plains she was beautiful, but nothing really was there

He sees her, and for a moment she stands in a peculiar in-between state of instinct to flee and crippling fear. With wide eyes, she takes a tentative step toward him and draws in a scent. Something on him was almost alluring, but she had never smelled it before. The aroma brought her limbs to loosen their grip on the earth and her ears to remain erect, facing forward and alert. Her shadowy figure scurried forward a few more paces before stopping again and watching his place with one paw up, eyes unblinking. The ghoul was not certain that she should have been in that location, but also knew that she had nowhere else to go. Her time back in the wilds had not brought her misfortune, and she was feeling as though testing her luck was a safe bet.

“Any luck?” she asked him in a tentative yip. As if to elaborate on what she meant, Lucy pointed to the marmot hole with her muzzle and then fixed him with a curious yet fearful stare. Her voice had been quiet enough to not startle his meal, but loud enough that it should have reached him. All it would take was a simple nod or shake of his skull for her to know, but the dark girl drew her tongue along her mouth hungrily. She had gone far too long without eating, but his post seemed as though it would provide them with a chance to profit and the hopes of living another day.