Meadowlark Prairie to savour your accent

merrick is correct in his assumptions; his simple comment brings a shy smile to her face. "thanks," she offers, quite unsure of how else to respond and feeling a little stupid as she trails into silence, not quite able to wipe away the small twist of her muzzle. his next question, thankfully, moves things along, and the nervous bubbling in her stomach ceases. 

"i'm looking for a pack called kaistleoki. i was a member, but i wandered a little far one day and found myself on the wrong side of the mountains. i think i'm close, but i should have a better idea once we get nearer the mountains. it was on a river, but i haven't found the right one yet." she rambles as she walks by her side, conscious at once of how quickly she's walking, attempting to match his step pattern. but not too exactly—that would be strange, right? she doesn't want to slow him, or walk too quickly. a moment later, and her attentions shifted to her steps, finding it hard to return her full focus to the conversation in the same way it's difficult to do so after becoming aware of one's own breathing, hardly trusting her legs to go on without her guidance.