Blacktail Deer Plateau Get a little dirt on your hands

Saoirse focuses on the she-wolf's words with intent curiosity, turning her gaze back to the red-stemmed plant as its name was explained. Nah...nah-ta...? She attempted to emulate the word, curious, but at the unfamiliar way it curled across her tongue decided it might be better not to bother; she didn't want to sound ignorant, not even able to speak properly in this strange land.

Is there a sign, that it's poisonous? How do you tell? She enquired instead, turning back in time for the other to display their embarrassment. When Saoirse realized why, she gave a shy cringe, herself; of course, introductions. Her mother would have been furious at the lapse in manners. The other wolf's name sounded as fluid and purring as the other word she'd spoken, though that may have been her voice, and it seemed equally unpronounceable with her clumsy tongue. She latched onto the offered nickname with some relief, though she resolved to practice speaking the full name later, where no one could laugh at her attempts.

It's nice to meet you, Aure. I'm Sao--..erm. Essie. People call me Essie. She couldn't help following the other's gaze as she looked back, and then glancing over her own shoulder, a rising fear that they were being watched creeping up her throat. She saw nothing, smelled nothing, but that meant nothing. She tamped down on the feeling of creeping dread, forcing her smile a bit wider in response to it.

I have never encountered many berries, or other plants, She admitted, ears perking forward. There was a small patch near my home as a pup, though. It would be nice to see more that were...not poisonous. But, how can they be so dangerous for us and safe for the birds? They're so much smaller. Honest curiosity, heedless of the other's discomfort at speaking so much—oblivious, almost, in her want to know.