Fiora too found herself swallowed in the strange territory, though her experience was exponentially different. After her fiasco in the Brook Fiora wanted no part weird terrains but it seemed that, for whatever reason, these Eastern parts were riddled with oddities that the rust-coated female had never encountered before. Sure, her childhood had been sheltered, but there was no way it had been this sheltered. Unless, heaven forbid, she really had been that much of a loser growing up. She grit her teeth to think about the possibility and decided that no one would know how weirded out she was by all of this. A brave face facade would certainly eliminate any suggestion that she was that sad kid all alone in the lunch room, right?

It was proving harder than she thought it would be. Every time she felt the cool, fringey touch of moss against the leather of her paw pads Fiora cringed. The relief of lifting her paw up from the ground was practically life-breathing, until she had to place it back down to continue walking. She just kept reliving her fall into the muddy shores some few days ago and how she had to find a clean river to wash it off in and just how much preening it had took to make sure she no longer smelled like a swamp monster. So far she hadn't seen any water around, but that didn't mean there wasn't mud, and Fiora was pretty sure the worst of it was hiding just beneath the surface of the mosses.

Everywhere she went it smelled not like rot, but fungus, and she could hardly spot any. Then again, she was used to white and red mushrooms and everything here was green. Not that pretty, springtime green - she had no problem with that sort of verdant foliage. Here it was yellowing, it was dull, it was infestation. Even the ivies that snaked around the decaying tree trunks had a darkness to them, their vines curling when they hung like a witch's claw. Ugh. Whatever solace there was to be found in the silence of the Mosses, Fiora was not doing a great job of locating it.

The word, however gentle it was spoken, rumbled through the silence like an avalanche and struck the ruddy yearling in a likely manner. Black-tipped fur began to rise on her neck and back as her legs locked straight. Fiora was spooked - not that she wanted to admit it, but as she turned to see who it was who destroyed the silence it was written all over her face: blue eyes wide as the moon and a stupefied line made of her ebon lips. She recovered as gracefully as she could, pink tongue snaking out to swipe across her nose as she tried to make her hackles go down quicker. "You shouldn't sneak up on people," she berated him in one exhale, not trusting her voice to hold steady.

Immediately after she felt bad, since all he'd really done was say hello. The blood that had rushed to her face as a result of fear was slowly settling back down. She cleared her throat and gathered her legs back together, trying to straighten her spine as she raised her head to survey the white-furred male. He was too small to be her sister but if she hadn't heard his voice first she would've mistaken him for Laoise anyway. The resemblance caught her even more off-guard and Fiora stood, dumbfounded, trying to find the words that had escaped her.

"What are you doing in such a weird place?" she demanded, the words coming out more judgmental than she had intended it to be. Fiora didn't seem to understand that she was also creeping around in this weird place herself. The leggy she-wolf was just so unnerved by the last five seconds of her life that she couldn't help but add with a snap, "Who are you?" Maybe he was some distant blood relative or something. Fiora did have the audacity, at least, to avert her gaze toward the rotted stump near him and look somewhat bashful of her lack of manners. There was certainly room for improvement here.

Her quickened heart began to ease a little as the offending male had the decency to look at least a little bashful when he apologized. His side-swept grin kept her somewhat miffed that he was actually making fun of her and really not sorry at all, but Fiora refused to acknowledge that he might find her fright anything different than a dishonorable mistake, much less an amusement. Gradually her porcupine-spines lowered after he, very loosely, explained his wanderings, only to have them shoot back up as he easily turned the tables on her.

"Uuh," Fiora balked, licking her maw nervously. "Research," she insisted, her voice teeming with a petty snootiness as if she had just said none of your business instead. Knowing a good lie required some elaboration, the yearling lifted her chin in the air and gave a flick of her ruddy tail as though she could hardly be bothered to explain herself to the likes of this guy. "I am trying to get to know the lay of the land. It is only wise to be aware of one's surroundings when one finds oneself in a new land." The sophistication she attempted to weave into her high tones was overdone and perhaps even a blatant mockery, but she really thought it was believable - evident by the satisfied grin that was tugging on the corners of her mouth by the end of her speech.

'Course, he thought he was gettin' a leg up on her with his identity. Nineteen? What kind of a fake name was that? At the very least he could've called himself Number One or something. What an amateur, she thought, even though she'd never used a fake name in her life. Until now. "Well, Nineteen, my name is Remy. Remy Geddes. Explorer extraordinaire." Fiora very nearly placed a paw out before her for him to kiss, but she didn't think of it quickly enough and the beat that skipped in between meant the perfect timing had already passed. Instead she just gave him a cocky smirk, wondering how he was going to top her profession.

Fiora watched as he reacted to her rather... unfavorably? But for some reason she didn't find herself growing as heated as she knew she normally would. The roll of his peculiarly pale eyes hadn't brought her to bare her teeth, instead only drawing a scowl upon her dark lips - half of one, even. As he picked on her obvious lack of observational skills she straightened her tawny legs and cracked a grin, leaning forward to simper, "That's what I wanted you to think!" It was certainly not true, but the banter slipped from her tongue naturally.

He remarked his pleasure and her smile remained, even letting her head dip ever so slightly to return the politeness. As he went on her blue eyes lit with mischief, intrigued that he had returned her ruse. Her blackened ears perked, eager to accept his self-identification, though she never would have guessed. Resident puppy-eater? Rather than feel the need to out-do him, as she perhaps normally would, Fiora instead adopted an entirely different response. Her legs bent ever so slightly, eyes widening while her jaw dropped as if with awe. "You're the puppy-eater?" she remarked, her voice hush with surprise.

Taking a step back, as though she feared his cannibalistic instinct, she murmured, "Tell me, is it true? You have to eat puppies to maintain your youthful appearance? That would explain why you hardly look a day older than me..." Fiora suppressed a grin, trying very hard to maintain the facade. She'd more to say, concocting a very elaborate back story for this Nineteen's character, but she kept herself quiet for now. This was a collaborative effort, after all.