In response to her timid greeting came an exuberant barrage of questions—Citlali gasped, taking a few steps back. O-oh! Her ears pinned back—thankful for the stranger's hospitality, yet... to say the questions were overwhelming would be quite an understatement. My name is Citlali, ah... she cleared her throat with a small aversion of her gaze towards the ground. I... can't say I'm sure where I'd come from. she admitted.

Her sightless eyes were distant as she canted her head towards the horizon. She could feel daylight slip away—it was dusk. I come from valleys. Filled with grass. And shrubs which move about, as though they've grown their own legs. Her lips pursed for but a moment. Nothing like here. She added. Valleys dipped and rose much like her home in these strange lands, yet, they were still a far cry from the brittle grass which swayed against her belly and arid winds which caressed her frame.

I am not lost, for I don't know where I belong, she continued. I am a wanderer— a pause. She canted her head, facing the stranger yet again. And you, who are you, Kirain? Are you, too, a simple voyager? Or have you got a home around here? The small wolfdog settled onto her haunches, wrapping her tail around her delicate paws.