Dragoncrest Cliffs B-E-A-U-T-Y

Admittedly, Maleah had been ill-equipped for what awaited her. High-pitched chatter in a language she did not understand led her onward through the brush, until her head pokes through the foliage and the shapes of two round puppies come into view. What also hit her rather immediately was the atrocious, distinct smell of something very, very dead.
Jesus Christ, her teeth mash together inside her mouth as she lets out a low whistle.
Her approach is ginger as though not to startle. She examines; a coyote, a baby; and her eyes travel between the two children. One is disgusted, the other seemingly fascinated; this could be a good teaching moment. And then, she pauses, a little dry tonguetip poking from her lips. Time to figure out a way to go about this. What'cha got there?