Sly Fox Sand Dunes you dj, i’ll drive

The wolf makes his approach once he spots her, asking questions that make Damsel raise her brow at first. But, as strange as it sounds, she can see why he would think such a thing. A dog with a thinner coat and ears made to block out dirt was likely better suited to a desert than one with thick fur and pointy, open ears. But smart or not, she can only answer the truth. No. Her voice comes muffled through meat and feathers, nostrils working overtime to check out the younger canine's scent through the musk of death she's holding in her jaws. Damsel had never heard of a canine who could drop it's ears and shed it's coat by pure willpower, but she didn't doubt that it could be possible.

Spotting a space darkened by a large sand dune, Damsel made a beeline for the slice of respite from the sun. Keeping her eye trained on the wolf, she hadn't yet decided if he was worth running from, or biting, but she wasn't particularly inclined to do either in this heat. He seemed fine, for now. More 'normal' than the others.

Dropping the carcass before laying with her paws over the wings, she decided to ask a question of her own. Who are you?