Whitefish River the coyotes sing when they call on your lovin'.

"Yes. From Silvertip Mountain." The handsome male responded to her question, gesturing towards the horizon's most prominent feature. Rahzie briefly glanced back at it, but her face did not turn away from him, and soon enough her brown eyes were back on him as well. The packlands were far enough away that she was not threatening their borders... so that was one possible game-ender that was taken out of the question.

"Are you from a pack as well, miss....?" "Rahxethe Abenaki." She introduced herself unabashedly, and took a couple slow steps forward, crossing one paw directly in front of the other in a show of grace. "Please, though..." She dipped her head, but her eyes still looked up at the almost-black male. "Rahzie."

The coywolf brought her head back up, level with the male's, but stopped her approach. The lithe woman was making calculated moves to test his boundaries while not risking herself, quite yet. "And, no, I am not from a pack." She answered his question, then tilted her head slightly to the side. "What should I call you, Dark Horse?"