Redsand Canyon I will not leave France without her.

Donovan hears a howl at his borders. He stops what he’s doing, solid stature frozen in time. All except ears and eyes. His auds cup and swivel each direction and yellow eyes akin to the sun burn along the horizon. A stranger has come to visit them this day. He’s much too eager to see who it is. 

All of a sudden he’s moving again. Like someone pushed the button to set time back on its imaginary course. He’s galloping through the heart of his canyon, to the source of the echo. He makes quick work of the distance between them and Donovan slowing himself into an assured saunter as he rolls up in the pair. One he recognizes, the other not so much.

His head is held high, tail tightly curled on his hips, and his canary hues scrutinize him. Trying to categorize him. Where’s this one from? He sidles closer and a smile is sneaking onto his maw as his eyes roam over his form shamelessly. Finally he’s speaks.

“Who are you?” He asks in a more conversational tone, casual.