Swiftcurrent Creek blank open eyes watch the moonflower bloom

A male. Wren had feared this. She knew full well that the cowboy of the isle and the man from the woods lingered with her. All she could do was hope he would not assume the worst of her intentions. 

With flattened ears and a heart that dropped to her stomach, Wren holds herself low; calm, unthreatening. But as tired as she was, she had teeth that glinted in the afternoon light when her mouth opened to speak. She was fully capable of defending herself if she needed to, though she refrained from expressing it for now. Good first impressions mattered. 

My name's Wren, she introduces, cool as the surface of stone, taking one small step forward. I mean no harm. Was, uh, told there were some fellas that lived out here.