[html]<style type="text/css">
.nireetablechels strong {color:#ccbca3;}
</style>
Her spirits had been considerably risen, attitude light and airy since waking up. Confusion obviously seemed to lack space in her time frame, seeing as she hardly even gave it an inch. She had no idea where she was, where she’d been or how she had got here… yet seemed completely fine with it all; even eager for Laurel’s words. Her ears pivoted gently in his direction as e spoke, nodding slightly with his words. She found it easy to keep pace with his soft, drawling movements; and her dark ponytail swung back and forth comically, a few locks of long, curly hair floating unobtrusively before her eyes.
She hardly heard his question, mis-matched eyes dwindling curiously upon his hat. She knew what clothes were, and had seen a few variations of shirts and pants, yet had never cared for them (hence her own lack thereof) and never before had she seen a hat. Pictures maybe, but never one in person. She stared up at the tall coyote’s hat, finding it difficult to concentrate on much else. What? she mused absently, thought shook her head quickly and dropped her eyes to his face instead. I mean, no. I mean! I don’t know! Her voice had risen slightly again, as if she had very little (if any) control of it’s volume.
She sighed, growing a little frustrated with herself. She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and began to absently play with the ends, her ears pulling back in an embarrassed manner. I’m not sure, honestly. Nothing looks or smells familiar… but then again, I can’t remember much anything from between my early childhood and about an hour ago… Another sheepish cringe.