Hideaway Strath Rad dudeski.

He kept his head down, sniffing at the soil as if he was trailing something other than the elusive vagoose, and only tilted his ears her way when she spoke (with some kind of accent if he wasn't mistaken, or an impediment, but oh well her mouth could be put to other uses—) and then turned to glance her way as if -- oh! Hello there! Fancy seeing you here, damsel-in-distress. She looked flustered and Dingo attributed it to his dashing good looks, unaware that she'd been having a panic attack against the tree just moments prior.

Oh, my bad, he drawled as he came to a stop, and looked around as if lost. I was trying to track some breakfast -- or lunch, I guess, I dunno. Food. What're you doing over there? His brow lifts and he cranes his neck to try and get a better look at the trees, but saw nothing of importance. He didn't have many scruples, this Dingo - he'd put his dick in crazy if it meant having a good time. You could help me hunt, I'll divide the spoils with you.