Sheepeater Cliff The hot girl in your comp sci' class

Fig had no way of knowing how much time had passed before the sound of soft steps greeted him. A female no doubt judging by the scent that accompanied her on the wind.

He had half the mind to ignore her, to keep his distance from the stranger and duck within the confines of the field, hoping she would pass through without paying him attention—but it seems that wasn't his luck. She had already seen him, was already close.

He expected to be met with the same hostility as the swamp wolves, but to his surprise was extended a gift in the form of two words. Bewilderment took him, and Fig's ear twitched to the sound of her voice as he rose his head to meet her gaze.

Golden fur so bright it seemed woven from the sun. Eyes mismatched.
Pretty.

He quickly looked away in a haste to retreat, almost as if his attention was caught by a sudden movement amongst the meadow. He didn't know what to say, what to do, but silence was far worse as it stretched between them. And in the wake of his anxiety, in his own awkward way, managed to quietly extend his own gift in soft words. "Yes, it's quite... uh, pleasant,"