Neverwinter Forest lxviii. bring it on back, bring it on back

The cloudberry straightened at the strange, muffled call, head swivelling as she turned to scan the forest for the source. Her emerald gaze landed on the most peculiar looking woman that she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

Even so, the dove was not unaccustomed to wolfdogs -- though she had yet to meet a purebred dog such as the woman in the distance. Silently, Lótë marvelled at her folded face and the wrinkles of her short fur and loose skin. 

Remembering her manners and forgetting the pelts she had been tidying up, the doe called out in return -- beckoning the she-dog closer with friendly tones and an amicable wag of her tail.