Lion Head Mesa [MP] Hidden within

Her stumbling approach caused his ears to swivel. Her voice had his head lifting up into her direction. One of the feral wolves of the great lake. He had seen the Mazoi wander the edges of the territory and guard the halls a number of times, yet never had spoken to her directly. In ways, she looked much like him: A medium height of a sleek hunter's build. Browns, blacks and tans throughout. Her gaze was one of fire, and Naberius? A paler sunburst, orange at the outer edges, fading to peach. 

For? He questions her, quite nonchalant and his head tilting ever slightly. After all, they lived in a rather open, dry land and it was at the height of summer. Surely she did not feel sorry for coming to drink.