Qeya River over the hills and far away

His eyes crinkled in more laughter. She was right--the woman was memorable, with that pale coat of hers. As for himself-- "Look at me," Shale responded, smirking. "I'm as gray as a stone, and with about as much personality as one, too. Not nearly as memorable as you, miss." He liked her--her company was pleasant and enjoyable. A nice break from the stresses of life.

"I'm Shale," he offered. He might as well give her a name, if he was going to stick around for a little while. "Who might you be?" Her name must be something very elegant, he supposed. Nothing less would do. But what was a matron like this doing out by herself, with no pack-scent to speak of?