Blackfeather Woods the road ahead feels lonely

Come forth, he calls, and Zaahira would oblige.
Tail raised in a slow, curious sway, she reveals herself, basking in the evening light. Foxy little head raises high, the fur of her neck parted and tipped with droplets of water from a recent dip in the nearby creek. She allowed herself to be exposed, to a degree. She was no threat to him.
As she gets closer, her head lowers, ears swiveling backward, though they did not pin. She would be cordial, but not submit. 
Who are you? Saucer-shaped eyes spoke for her. What brings you to me?