Arrow Lake Out in the desert with my street sweeper

she responded-- her eyes darting around a little bit before coming to a rest. she speaks of the coast, and finch's ears attune to her words accordingly. whenever anyone mentions the coast, the golden wolfess settles near the spirit but not too close for her to get uncomfortable. ,,i grew up on the coast. well, kind of. it was a coast, sorta, but not quite.'' her feathered tail sways amongst the snow resting her front paws on the ground before her as she sprawls out. ,,what about it don't you like? it's definitely not for everyone, that's for sure.'' her speech is riddled with chuckles, trying to feel as welcoming as she can.