Neverwinter Forest birds of a feather

Reservations aside, Andalusia fancied the sharpness of his mind, for he did not miss a beat of her inflections. Rather he returned her words with shrewd brevity, and in this she found a great wealth of respect for the ebony man. Though his grin faded to intense neutrality, a crooked smile crept along Andalusia's own fine face and she raised her head from its forward lean, a product of her deep intrigue. "Yes." She countered in short reply. That another could so easily pick out her coyote heritage normally would have left her disgruntled, but this case was different, for reasons she felt clear.

"You're new to these parts, aren't you?" she queried, assuming such only because he still carried the scent of barren wilderness on his tousled fur. The aroma of others did not cling to him, and she concluded he had not yet bound himself to a pack. A traveller like herself, perhaps? An outrider, a vagrant, or a man in search of place to call home?