Hushed Willows Look at me, I'm the king of New York!

This wasn't the first time Iolana had been called 'odd', in fact, the wisp had called herself strange before. It wasn't anything new. So, when the word escaped the other's mouth the woman simply chuckled along and agreed. "Well, one must hunt to survive no?" As far as Iolana had ever heard, unless one was extremely young, hunting was almost always a necessary trait.

Deciding it was time for another recon (to ease Lale's nerves once more) the painted woman looked at her feathered friend and whistled. The call was a complex mix of short and long, high and low whistles but still short and not too drawn out. Lale took the message immediately and shot off into the sky, circling the pair and scanning for and threat. "She will be back."