My Words Can Come Out Like a Pistol

Her face twisted in confusion. Blacktail? Blacktail Deer? Are those a thing? Mama told me about whitetailed deer, never blacktails. I haven't heard of your pack, but you smell a little like someone else I met recently called Osprey. Maybe you are from the same pack? She suggested. Her mind flitted back to blacktail deer, and could imagine a deer that was completely black- just like Onyx! Well, except for her white toes, of course. Deers couldn't have toes, they had hooves.