Hushed Willows there's a syncopated beat

She noticed the alarm in him at her reassurance; what she had thought was lighthearted enough had clearly been lacking. It seemed that however her demeanor, it was not received how it was intended. Taking the bird in her mouth, she gave him a respectful nod to go ahead, but she did not continue their walk. Instead, she sat where she was, her ears swiveled in his direction as she listened.

He finished and she returned the bird to him. “I haven’t heard of the Red Desert, before. Admittedly, I’m a bit sheltered, I don’t know much of really anything beyond my home. It’s north, way above the Wilds—Rhodesia. Cold, but beautiful in its own right, I guess.” She missed the place her family had once lived, only for the fact they were there, but she had decided some time ago that she liked the Wilds much better. There was life here; a different kind of life that wasn’t bleak and dreary. And cold.

His eyes had looked around if waiting for something, or someone, and she had realized then that she kept him from what he had tasked himself to do, so returned to her feet to take her leave. “Thanks for letting me come along and chatting with me, but I must leave you here. I’m sure Reverie’s children will enjoy what you bring to them.” Her smile was genuine, warm, regardless of how he received it. She knew her truth and the truth was that she was glad to have more pack members, maybe more family, if he ever allowed. “I know you’ve been here a while already, but welcome to the Hushed Willows, Dusty Rose.”