Hushed Willows whomping willow

There was no intrusion, says the darker one. Though the stillness hung above her golden companion could allude to the contrary. So long as snapping jaws were not hurled their way, or the interaction grew to, well, awkward, Gossamer was happy to make conversation. Perhaps there was knowledge to be gained by the end of it.

She'd given them her name – Isabella – and another nearly slipped her tongue, though she'd cut herself short. Curious as they may be, more so following the abrupt end to her introduction, they would not pry.

I am Gossamer. I’m just out here on a stroll, enjoying the scenery. That's the half of it. And what brings you two here? Have you come to marvel at this beautiful flora as well?

A more distinct smell brought their crimson gaze to the quiet woman. A pelt of one, but a hub to many more unique scents. They wondered if she'd come from the claims they'd passed on the way here.