Blackfoot Forest while you eggheads is on the wall preparing answers

nothing familiar clung to her pelt. she sized him up, as he did she. at first he assumed her pelt matched his, yet as she unbraided herself from the canopy of thatch and brush, new colors came to light. bluish gunmetal, dark oil swaths -- silvery toes.

val. he answered, committing to memory the name mulberry. he was not so crafty as to think of lying. "where are you from?"