The female heard the call from a distance and began to amble her way to where the musical sound had came, wondering who had arrived at the borders, and for what reason. Her pack was flourishing once more, proving that nothing and no one could push the trading gypsy pack down and keep it there for long. Upbeat and happy once more, Skye pushed through the thick foliage to where the newcomer was and quickly absorbed the loner at her borders.
She was a dog, there was no doubt of that - multicolored between dark browns and light creams, with a noticeable dark patch over her eyes and going down her head (and plenty of jewelry, which Skye subtly approved of), Skye had never seen someone quite like her. She was not alone, either - she had a light bay horse with dark markings on its hooves and mane and tail.
"Welcome to the borders of Cercatori d'Arte," Skye said jovially. "I am Skye Collins, leader of this pack - who might you be?"
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