Otatso Wetlands Frog hunting.

OOC: Me too :D Scarlett is sweet as sugar!

IC: He smiled as she related to him—even in something as miniscule as day-tracking—but it was a sheepish sort of look, as if he were entirely unused to the camaraderie. "Oh, sure anyone can be a cowboy, Miss Scarlett—er cowgirl, depending on who you're talkin' to. It can be a term of endearment too, for anyone you might meet wit' a cowboy's composition. Don't even have to mean nothin' special." The dusty wolfdog perked his ears slightly and smiled more confidently. "You kinda just know a cowboy when you see 'em."

As she explained about her home, Boone found himself listening as if he were hearing an interesting tale for the first time. He was keen on the way she talked about her home, with such reverence and inclusion, it was hard not to like the place on her description alone. She tossed in the fact that she led the place afterwards, and his expression was marginally surprised before easing back into one of neutral bemusement. "Coulda mentioned that one a bit sooner, Miss Scarlett. Now I feel a bit foolish for not bein' a bit more cordial," he smirked. As if he had not been polite enough.

Her admission of her rank, however genteel and sweet she had presented it, had drastically changed his view of her. He had been mistreated by the leadership of his home, resented them all his life, but his mother had encouraged him to never be anything but respectful towards the upper echelons of wolf hierarchy. He was uncomfortable now, though it didn't show, and he wondered how long it would be before her packmates came looking for her and assumed the worse of a mud-blooded, dog-looking wolf.

"I can tell you really love your home," he mentioned quietly, unwilling to let his paranoid mind get the better of him in a so-far pleasant situation. This place was not Red View. "Do you stay there with your family?"