Blackfeather Woods Blueberry cigarillos

There was a slight prickle to her fur when the other got so close to her chest. Yet no sound of act of displeasure came from her. For she recognized her own name on Istoria's tongue. No malice present.

Yes. She responded with a soft whisper. That was her. Jakoul. A name she had always responded to and would continue to do so until she died or until a new title was casted upon her. The former was more likely than the latter.

What...know? Of here. Of everywhere. Of anything.