Sunset Valley these boots were made for walking

A stranger approached from the distance: a little dot of yellow fur and a visible tail swishing back and forth. Her voice reached Isabella, and what she stated was fact. The woman was weary from travel, and for a moment she worried that her paws indicated bad manners, as her mother so often used to say.

Slowly, Isabella drew closer towards this girl. Noticeably younger, by a little under a year. Golden with green eyes. Like a single sunflower in a dappled field, waving through a blue day. I am, she said, her voice smooth, calm--yet exhausted. very tired, actually. And a little hungry, she wanted to say. But she wanted to give this lass a moment, first. Perhaps she'd introduce herself, and Isabella could prove that she did, in fact, have good manners.