Moonspear lay with the lion-hearts

A man with a hat? Bronco bit his lip to keep himself from making what would've been a very emasculating squeal, charmed by the way she described the snail. He wasn't about to correct her, either, as she seemed very content with her identification, and he wasn't her father so he couldn't be expected to tell her it was actually a snail, right? She didn't make strange of him or shy away, and instead seemed to welcome his company with comfortable ease, so he ambled closer, chuckling at her realization. "He must," He agreed as he moved to her side- but quickly side-stepped and moved to her other flank when he realized that his shadow would cover the snail, and likely prompt it to remain in its shell. If it valued its life, it'd hang tight until the pup lost interest. 

"You are?" He asked, in disbelief. "That's kind of funny, y'know, 'cause-" He said, dipping his chest to the ground and wriggling his belly in the mud, before draping one paw across his own muzzle to smear it with a pawful of wet earth as well. "I'm part mud monster myself," He said. It looked like he'd found the Moonspear equivalent of Quetzal- though she seemed to be much quieter, and a bit more articulate. Q had a habit of slurring her words a bit. He smiled at the name she suggested, and nodded. "I like it. I'm Bronco," He said. "What's your name?" He asked.