he seems to be enjoying the conversation as much as she, unlike her last acquaintance. his feigned outrage makes her laugh, a tinkling chirp in contrast to his hearty chuckles. she lifts her inky muzzle into the air, it is a small delicate thing, soft as velvet, and gives a haughty sniff at her surroundings in general before proclaiming, yes. there is some sort of disturbing odor here that’s certain…. playfully she reaches over to him, her nostrils wide, and gives another hearty whiff before dancing sideways, light as a feather, and snorting loudly. perhaps i was wrong…maybe the stench isn’t the kingdom so much as the king….

with another eye roll at his remark of her sense of direction, her signature move it seems, she smirks, pleased to have run into someone with a sense of humor. apparently good conversation, or entertaining conversation at least, quiets her constant need for motion. she feels almost relaxed, comfortable just exchanging this playful banter. she listens as he describes what seems to be a nutshell of his life. running free, making friends, causing trouble, sounded like the perfect life… too bad it had to take place in a dingy swamp. she eyes him at the “beautiful ladies remark,” and lifts her nose again haughtily, sashaying down the path as if walking a runway with a smirk of her own. she giggles again, her lilting little chirp, and looks back at him to answer.

i’m swift…your royal highness………or i suppose since i wandered unawares into your kingdom you can call me what you wish. life here doesn’t sound too bad at all then really. but it is so… cluttered here. trees and water and mud and brush. there is no room to run. no room to fly. and that combined with the smell…… i don’t know how you make due…