Jade Fern Grove did the stars whisper on the day you were made?

The coywolf slinked along, measuring his paw against the trail he followed. His large ears swiveled toward every sound, and his black nose twitched constantly to take in the scents around him. He wasn't sure what sort of wolf he was approaching, but he trusted his long legs to carry him quickly from danger if he was confronted with it.

No one answered him, at first. His idle curiosity grew, and he scanned his surroundings with the fur at his nape beginning to prickle uneasily. He was starting to figure it was time to turn around and head back when the wolf finally revealed themself.

He peered at her for a moment, nonplussed. He did not normally bother with names until he was sure he cared to know the individual he was talking to, but manners won out, in the end.

"Dusty Rose," he replied, the answer almost as clipped as the question. His eyes were focused on her, but his satellite dish ears continued to twist and turn as he stepped toward her. "Were you watchin' me?" he wanted to know, amused by the idea. It didn't sit well with him if this girl had evaded his senses, but that wasn't her fault. Since no ambush had come of it, he was willing to forgive this breach. He'd be a hypocrite not to, even if he didn't have much call to sneak around, these days.