Her response makes my brow rise momentarily; she issues a challenge almost, as if it is I that must prove to her that I am worth being proved to. I suppose I cannot blame her. Her scent is not ripe with Moladion; she does not know the blood I have fed into the shore to keep it my own, or the strings I delicately pull beneath the paws of others. She cannot be blamed for not knowing. Still, she is right - I enjoy a challenge, a mystery, something to be solved. Those without secrets are seldom worth the attention. Of course, I do not speak on it; I continue onwards, a shark to her waters.

She is like a fox though. She is quick to slide away, my ear flickering in response to her jestering laugh. Is it so amusing? Nonetheless, I lope after her, my tail arched in dominance and my ears forward to catch her words as I break into a circle. She seems to think for a moment, a realization that makes my lip twitch up in an amused grin, before she finally issues herself a name. I am sure we both share an understanding in that second - we are both liars. We are playing the same game. I flatter her nonetheless, nodding in affirmation as I come along her side. "Ravasz," I repeat, pausing my stride to utter the name back into her ear, "its meaning a mystery just like its beholder." Flattery gets you places. It is simply another skill to learn.

I am entertained by her mannerisms as she darts alongside, and I change my trajectory towards the inner reaches of Glorall. I feel her fur tangle in my own, the vibrancy of hers mingling with the paleness of my own. This time, I remain quiet, watching her closely from my peripherals. There is mischief in her face, her eyes bright with her own motives. It is intriguing, no? Perhaps I have made a good decision - and then, she speaks.

I am quick to respond, my paws following suit as she dashes away. I know these lands well, and I weave close to her to issue my words; "I would come to hope you have more to offer than that." My words are dry and I take the opportunity to charge forward, a burst of speed before I pivot to face her. I lower my head instantly, pushing forward in an effort to - as gently as possible, at least - knock aside her shoulder. It is playing, no? To feign this fight? To test one another's speed and skill? As I charge, I pivot once more, my words ringing out once more in succession; "A mind, perhaps?" I tease with my query, pausing now as I test her resolve. I want to see what she can do or, at least, what she is willing to do. I even allow my tail to fall into a neutral positon, my body taut but open, an invitation for her to really play a game here and now. Is she simply company? Or is she something more? Something better?