Sun Mote Copse he just started like banging his hands together.

She made a low, affectionate sound in her throat when Fig's muzzle bumped the side of her head. Yeah, just smacked my nose, she shared, shooting a dirty look over her shoulder toward the offending tree, which was well out of sight by now. She wasn't about to admit she'd been so engrossed in following the trail that she'd mistaken his urine puddle for him.

Whatcha doin'? she wondered, even though it was pretty self-explanatory. Mostly, she just wanted to force herself into whatever activity he was doing so she could spend time with him. Maybe he could even be like... her new Bronco. Y'know, since the real Bronco was a filthy traitor who abandoned her here.