Blacktail Deer Plateau lestat's tarantella

Perhaps some would have been offended by his flat tone, but Fox actually appreciated it. All too many were trying too hard to be witty or sly, when often just a simple answer was all that she wished for. She was less satisfied with his use of mumbo-jumbo, though she recalled through some vague memory that there had been a creek wolf who had spoken similar words. Fox did not recall a name, nor what the girl had called her, but she did remember it sounding eerily similar.

“We live on that plateau,” she replied, pointing out the obvious first. “It is named Blacktail Deer Plateau, and it is led by me, my mate, and one other.” Fox did not specify where in line she fell, for it did not seem important. “What more do you wish to know?” she asked. For Fox, her choices had always presented themselves and she had gone with them. Bouncing from pack to pack looking for something had never been one of her strong suits. Instead, she had joined the creek when a summoning howl had been called, and the plateau had become her home due to circumstances beyond her control.