Heron Lake Plateau i've cultivated the stamina of a cartoon basset hound

The approach of the cougar fell on deaf ears up until he was close enough for her to hear the squelch of mud beneath toe beans, and by the time her eyes flew open he was already speaking. The wolf took a moment to soak in the situation... mountain lion... amiable enough... seemingly disappointed. He looked wild, edgy. Edgy cool, not nervous. Though clearly he was underweight it only served to accentuate natural muscle tone beneath his rain-darkened coat.

Whimsy had never seen one of these guys up close, so she was doing her best not to eye-shag him. She kept looking at him and looking away, blinking more than was socially acceptable, and finally managed to utter something, "No, sorry, just a Whimsy." She looked to the sky momentarily and then smiled much too wide for the occasion and belted out, "Lovely weatha, innit?" She had imitated the accent of a strange bird she'd met once.

For some reason, she was choking on the site of this cat. She'd never experienced the inability for the conversation to flow effortlessly in all of her adult life... which wasn't saying much because, uh, she was a year old. But still!