The coyote woman almost seemed a bit let down by her answer, though this disappointment did not last, as unpleasantries did not seem to ever trip Lyssa up for very long; that winsome beam returned soon after, and Fennore mimicked the gesture, albeit not as enthusiastically. Her magenta eyes followed the other's fingers as she idly played with her braid — it was nowhere near what the wolfess had weaved the time before, but it was... serviceable. If nothing else, her hair looked a thousand times better than it had when Fennore first encountered her; Lyssa had seemed such a wildling then. But even a braid as simple as this one upped her civility very effectively.
And then Lyssa was on the offensive again, laying into Fennore with more questions. The Moonwraith took her queries in stride, rolling her shoulders in a small shrug. "I'm not sure exactly the lands they have scouted out, but I do know there has been talk of moving our camp elsewhere." That had been the bulk of Tamlin's work, as far as she knew: helping Iomair search for more suitable terrain. It was true, New Caledonia was expanding with both straggling refugees and newcomers alike, but the base of Oromocto was not going to hold them for much longer. They needed more.
"Perhaps we will move further north, beyond Mount Oromocto." There was a lot of fertile land there, as far as she remembered. The beautiful meadow laying in Gaspesia was nearby, also, so that would be a plus if they did migrate north. "Or maybe west, around here. Though if your Ashen are close by, perhaps that is not as wise of a choice. The last thing we want is to step on anyone's toes, after all." Especially given how much strife these Ashen had faced in days past, according to Lyssa, they were probably on edge as it was.