King Elk Forest a bad moon risin'

There was silence for a few seconds, then a scurrying sound as a body pressed itself against the dirt (perhaps commando-style), and before Ambrose knew it a face was erupting out of a cluster of wilting, naked bushes. The face was young but not familiar. He was caught on how large those ears were — they flipped forwards after a second, each ear practically the same size as the person's long face. He opened his mouth to protest and ask more questions — but then they spoke instead, not giving him a chance. This must be what it's like to run in to a sphynx in the middle of a road, he thought cryptically; perhaps she'd have riddles for him too.

I got your secret message, she mentioned; he couldn't tell if she was being serious but gave her the benefit of the doubt, and without missing a beat Ambrose narrowed his eyes and turned away. Agent, you know we can't meet face-to-face, there is a protocol. He swished the tip of his tail, slowly releasing whatever tension Ambrose had built up during his few uncertain moments, and began to play her game.