Whitefish River she fears I'll be a servant to my history

her ears flatten at the first riotous laugh, though as the girl continues to chuckle, her tail begins to wag as she relaxes. she doesn't quite get the joke—perhaps the answer is obvious, and she's just oblivious. she thinks she's missed out on rather a lot, having been absent from her home for so long. 

an otter, she reveals, and though she's still not clear on what a homeboy is, she is hardly the type to press anything. at the latter information, her eyes widen. "what?" she's never seen anything like that, but then again, she's never seen an otter, either. she thinks. "no—really?" her auds press forward, even as she blinks in surprise. "where do they grow?"