Redsand Canyon she held her pose

praimfaya.

she turns her head in the direction of her name, recognizing the voice enough by now to place it immediately as renard's. she worries that she is becoming too familiar with them ...and wonders spontaneously in the next instant if it is only to be expected for they pretty much know her secret and though loathe as she is to admit it, holds her life betwixt their jaws. that is more trust then she wants to give but is forced to nonetheless.

renard, she greets them with a brush of her tail against her hocks; a low throaty hum in her voice.

not busy, she admits and adds with a lofty shrug of her shoulders, admiring the bizarre color of the water. if she were an inspiring ecologist she might try to deduce what causes it but she isn't and truthfully doesn't care beyond whether or not it was safe enough to drink — not that she was brave enough in that respect to try it.

so i have, she purls, stretching in the crimson froth of the water, pacing out of it leisurely, approaching them. i take it you've come to collect? she guesses, tensing into a defensive position, frostbound gaze locking upon him.