guess i'm doing fine,

[Lysander]

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Lysander had with him a bag of items, loot he had pulled from Halifax to fill his cabin in Phoenix Valley with. The bottles of alcohol, harder to find than one would think, clinked together as he walked. Hinges, beads, string, coins and anything that had taken his fancy rattled at the bottom of the sack. The noises of the junk he was hauling home put the mixed dog in a good mood, and Lysander was pleased with his day’s findings. The steel gray male with the white mask and underbelly was excited to get home and put into action his plan for concealing his belongings– which no one would want to steal anyway but Lysander liked to pretend it was all more valuable than it really was. It was as he was passing the harbor he became aware of the other’s presence. The scent was not wolf, but it was not dog either and this truly intrigued the male. Letting his tail wag slowly behind him, which looked comical when he was shifted and on two legs (as he was now), he slowly came up from behind the fellow, a shit eating grin plastered on the male’s face. “Why! Hello there mate! What might ya be doin’ just now?” His eyes twinkled at the strange canine, which he guessed to be a coyote from all the stories he had heard. They had not had coyotes in his old clan, and he had not met any on his way here, but he knew of the coyote clan that existed in this parts. That would explain this creature’s existance.

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