Hoshor Plains The way you laugh sounds like

Something was not right with this canine. Finley blinked wordlessly as he jumped, let the question hang seconds too long, stammered his words and exclaimed and gestured. There was an unfamiliar smell on his breath, some kind of… plant? berry? Herb? Damned if she knew.

Finley took a breath, her own thoughts scrambled momentarily by the youth’s confusion. She found it hard to believe he’d made it all the way over the mountains, like this, and alone—but he hadn’t snapped as-is, and she wouldn’t be the one to set him off. “I’m a traveler,” Finley replied simply. “I guess this is as good a place to rest as any.” Open. Exposed. Unguarded. She mused for her own benefit, really. But something else nagged at her, and she risked a question: “What did you see? Was it in the mountains?” Fine, two questions. Simple enough, though, right?