Duck Lake Cruel limits

One could say that Rex had an awful habit of being blunt. The stranger took to the comment with ease. A hint that perhaps his excited words were not the first time he’d heard them; they are, after all, out of this world to Rex. He was used to the run of the mill average wolves. Each of them had different features that a critical eye could point out, and the obvious; that one was brown, this one had blue eyes.

This specimen intrigued him. Rex beamed. His pumpkin orange eyes finally moved from staring intently on the curled ears to the other features of the soft-spoken wolfdog. Rex wagged his tail. Rex, he introduced in the gap between Pheiros’ own and the question that followed. Sure, sure. If it were possible, he would have slung an arm over his shoulders, like they were old pals reuniting.

I’m new here, he explained, so I was inspecting the place. Seems kinda cozy, but there are these tracks that weren’t here earlier today. He gestured over towards the spot he’d previously been glued to with a casual wave of his forepaw. Are you from around here, Pheiros? Maybe you’d know!