10-09-2010, 06:34 PM
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The cinnamon colored male was harder to spot than one might think, with all the turning leaves that littered the ground, and the occasional ones that clung to their respective trees. Averting her gaze slightly as if there was something interesting on the ground, she showed respect to his position—assuming he was the leader she'd called for. Her violently orange eyes moved around somewhat as she listened, finally settling on a protruding stump as she thought over what to say. She wasn't lost, but it wasn't obvious that he'd gathered as much.
Rolling her shoulders back slightly, Tempest finally decided on an answer. "I was pointed this way when I inquired about shelter," Not quite an answer, more a statement as to why she was here. After a moment she continued with, "were they lying?" She certainly hoped not; the graveyard was an interesting welcome, and it made quite the impression. Crossing her arms plaintively, she glanced upward toward him momentarily—so as to see what facial expressions he might be making—and then back down to the ground as she waited.
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