Hoshor Plains Roadrunner

Calahan had been trespassing, he knew of it. Today, he learned that the canines of this land seemed more likely to confront than attack upon sight. The monochrome wolf in his vision- wait! The outlaw blinked, unsure of what he was seeing. Could it be? Could it really be Elm- he was snapped out of his trance. The stark red of her eyes and difference in voice confirmed that he'd been imagining things. The rustler felt an immense amount of disappointment and twice as much relief.

But, good lord, did they look similar! This one had the markings of a certain critter, and so he dubbed her as such. Raccoon.

"Nobody," was his guarded response to her hostile question. Regaining his state of alert, he turned the question back to her. "Who the hell are yew?" Like as not, she was one of the folks inhabiting this marked claim.