Lion Head Mesa You're a classic, like a little black dress

The girl flushes.

It is an acknowledgment of what Eset knows. And now she does.

The coywolf smiles. “I am pleased to meet you, Melody the hemet. I am Eset the fellahin,” that much is likely clear in what her wolven features lack, but she will mirror the hemet’s way of introduction.

Melody gestures towards the chart and she draws nearer to stand beside the girl and better observe what it is she refers to. A carved illustration in a series of dots and marks that connect them into outlines of vague shapes. She has never seen a thing like it, and does not know what it is she is looking at.

“Your study looks quite important,” she remarks.