Blacktail Deer Plateau clothes from the dryer

Fox had always been, and likely always would be, a selfish beast at heart. She put her own life above all others... and she thought that everybody else did, too. They were just not very honest with themselves when asked. Of course, she did care about her pack-mates... she just wasn't willing to die in order for them to live. This, of course, included even her relatives and closest friends. It was instinctual, to be sure, but not something she openly admitted during a first encounter. Instead, she took Dante's words to mean that she would lead them well and would make the necessary calls when needed. And that, of course, she would do.

To his rhetorical question, she gave a lazy nod. One by one, she would meet the members of the plateau and allow herself to be judged... harshly or otherwise. If they were going to live under her rule, it was probably best that they at least have a conversation with her. She wondered if others often joined packs without a conversation, but assumed it was true, considering she'd had more than one come to the creek's borders and join their ranks with little more than an exchange of names.

“Have you been living here long?” Fox inquired, shifting herself around in the grass to make herself more comfortable.