Deepwood Weald we sip the wind through lips alive

there is something familiar about the male as he regards her, and a fraction of her mind huts through memories to try and put a fleeting name to his face. "that it does," she offered, though her ears perked at the latter half of his words. a slight smile curved her muzzle, wondering briefly why he'd willingly spend time her. her brow furrowed as he pointed out the barb, gaze instinctively going that way until she realized promptly she would in no way be able to see it. her ears flicked.

"that would be much appreciated."