Though his smile make it a little more difficult to judge, Foxtail assumes that the he is serious when he thanks her for not biting him. She would have, she thinks, if he’d come any closer – but no need to raise the tensions in this seemingly happenstance meeting. He gives his name – a word that means nothing to her – and she wonders if perhaps his people are of the same strange habit as Tybalt’s, that of naming children as soon as they are born. Foxtail had earned her name (not through her coloring, for she was born as dark as any pup) by the souvenir she had refused to drop for several weeks, the same as her sister Bramble had earned hers by getting caught in a patch of briars. She is distracted from her thoughts by his mention that they will be joined soon, adns he glances up to see a dark figure coming toward them.

She crouches instinctively, and while the thick fur of her ruff remains smooth, she is clearly poised to dart away at a moment’s notice.

The newcomer seems to have overheard her name. He mentions a meeting – she had been to a meeting? – and from the rest of his statement she can only assume that he has been following her. Do they eat wolves, her in this land? She has heard of their odd customs and habits, but cannibalism had not quite crossed her mind – yet why else would a wolf stalk another and suss out their den?

“You mean that strange mess in the West?” she asks suddenly, remembering the rather large conglomeration of seemingly unrelated and unpacked wolves that she had happened upon a few hours ago. Foxtail had lurked at the edges of it, unwilling to put herself close to so many strangers, but it seems that she had caught the eye of Tenshi – whatever a Tenshi was.

Foxtail allows her gaze to shift toward the west, trying to determine exactly how long this stranger had been following her, but she is drawn back by Tesseract’s reply to Tenshi. She frowns, looking from one wolf to the other, trying to determine what the larger wolf meant. This was her den, wasn’t it? She’d found it first anyway, so that must make it hers. It does not occur to the red wolf that they are discussing her – Foxtail is not usually someone that anyone else wants to keep. She’s neither pretty nor exceptionally strong – a quick tongue doesn’t bring down game and a wry sense of humor doesn’t fill an empty belly. She had been with Bramble out of familial loyalty and then stayed with Tybalt out of habit; Foxtail has admitted quietly to herself that half the reason she hasn’t sought out a pack is the fear that she would be rejected.

The two wolves don’t seem to know each other, and she doubts that they’re making any effort to trick her - unless they really do plan to eat her. But that’s foolish, she tells herself. Nevertheless, she remains standing despite the fact that Tesseract sits, clearly relaxed. Her gaze is mostly on Tenshi, her follower, and she scratches her overly long nose with none dark paw before waiting for one of them to speak. She’d been in her den, after all. They’re the ones that had sought out conversation – or den-snatching.