Sly Fox Sand Dunes you dj, i’ll drive

Ravinder Bevli? What a strange name for a wolf, sounded more like something she would have heard on a 'doctor' or someone on the light box that used to be in the rotting place. She wouldn't question it, whether or not it really was his name would have no meaning to her sooner or later. Quail. She soon responds, offering up the name used by the others during hunts rather than the one gifted to her. She had failed to notice any tears initially, given she had not looked closely at his face until he neared her once more. A pretty boy - his mother must be proud, Damsel always was.

I don't look like a wolf because I'm not. At the question she quirked a brow; he was joking, right? I'm a hound. Very different. She thought so, anyways. They were from the same tree, but she was born with purpose while wolves were born out of necessity. She had met dogs who acted similarly, but frankly Damsel didn't see the convenience in pulling her off-spring around for a year just for the majority of them to leave.

Tearing into the bird, she thought to ask him what was nearby. Water, she hoped.