Wild Berry Meadow it takes the shape of a place out west

He lived here? Alone? Angel Oak's nose twitched again as she strained to take in more of his scent, but she couldn't detect any of the telltale wreath of scents that a static location usually entailed. He was a squatter, then — in no man's land, at least.

Her ears drew back as he took a tone with her, though truthfully, she had done nothing less. Surprised and affronted, she remained still and quiet in the face of his rebuttal.

"I'd just expect a guy with such big, stupid ears to be able to hear, is all," she replied, a beat too late, and her voice a tiny bit wobbly. She'd travelled far and wide, but most everyone had been incredibly kind to her. Perhaps because she'd been incredibly kind to them.