Duck Lake every night I'll be with you

A gentle voice interrupts her quiet, and slowly white head turns to see. Dark eyes gaze up at a patchwork man fashioned of chocolate and darkness, pale ashy eyes a contrast to her own. Before she speaks up, Star notices the scar that marks one eyes. Was he a warrior as she was? He held no pack scent, but that eye told some story, just as her own scars did.

Clearing her throat and rising up to stand, she hums softly, "Hello, Sir." It wasn't Star's typical address- but having him greet her as Miss made her feel she ought to return the same politeness. It was an odd formality to use with a stranger, but somehow his use of it made him seem learned- raised in etiquette, perhaps. "Are you from around here?" She wonders, feeling the need to fill a silence, all the while dark eyes still tracing over his figure.