The Floodlands I'm doing fine, trying to derail my one track mind

Oh, little songbird, how you bite off more than you can chew.
She could not hide her intrigue, eyes widening as she watches him practically ogle her. It sparked a whirl of excitement and confusion within her, big, brown eyes following his as they move across her body. She'd never been looked at with such blatant hunger, and by a stranger, no less. Frightening and foreign, and yet she practically invited it, curiously moving in a slow circle around him.
Her own gaze danced about, wandering from bony shoulders to long, spindly forelegs, the chestnut, scraggly fur that covered faded scarring. There were stories to be told with those, and something about him told her it was better not to ask. She moves just that little bit closer, the pace of her wagging tail quickening, yet maintaining its loose movements. 
Lemme ask yah this, quirking an eyebrow, she lowers her voice, rumbling from deep within her chest. what do you think I'm looking for? She pauses, lips parting as a shallow breath exits her lungs. Least you could do is tell me your name before making any assumptions, her smirk grows. Sir.