She was being studied again. Mojave felt her eyes lingering on her once more, though it was the tilt of her head that readily brought her gold-eyed gaze back to her. Maybe it wasn't so much of a study as it were a scrutiny; but why? It was then and only then that Mojave felt that if things didn't change soon enough, she would be on her way much sooner than it would take to stay a while. She already had the impression that she had worn out her welcome just from being there.


Yet the name that she was offered held her attention for a moment. She'd commit it to memory all the same, for however long that lasted. Esper. "It's pretty," she commented, and that was only to keep the silence between them at bay. Normally a beamish conversationalist, things were significantly more difficult knowing that her company was only keeping her there begrudgingly. It was oddly reminiscent of her own past, though she managed to stop herself before she delved into that rabbit hole of lacking place of pleasantry.


This time however, and probably much to the joy of Esper, she refrained from offering anything else to the conversation. Mojave considered for a moment asking if she lived around there, but the small talk repulsed her. Not because it was small talk, but because it became prying and opened her up to all sorts of questions to be turned back around to her. As it were, she didn't live anywhere in particular, and hanging around the lake wasn't exactly what she called home. If anything, she realized rather quickly it would have only moved to solidify the commentary of her being lost, and that was something that she was firmly decisive in not being.

Finally, she had garnered a response that didn't seem like she was entirely repulsive.  But the crinkling of Esper's expression was brief in Mojave's eyes, if only for the next statement that she made.  The youth missed the fact that she was trying to avoid condensation and took it entirely that way; the rebuke shone in a flash as a pang of hurt, but the ferocity of her own stubbornness was quick to dispel it.  Mojave looked away, drawing her attention to the path she had been on.  She took the moment to liken it to the possibility that her companion was not quite a conversationalist, or at least perhaps not as tolerant of the exuberance that Mojave had bridled beneath her demeanor.


"I was exploring," she explained simply, once more genuinely.  She saw no reason to lie about what she was doing out in the woods at night, had no reason to fear what may have lied somewhere in the nooks and crannies of the dark wood.  It was a dominant, predatory instinct that most canines held, and perhaps most importantly, the night was also a good time to hunt.  But it wasn't hunting that Mojave was out there preparing to do, not even close.  The dense wood was too difficult to properly chase after prey; the best she could have done was merely track them to somewhere more open, or drive them indirectly to it.


"I was actually about to head back towards the mountains, too," she added again, returning to the notion that she was not too inclined to hang around.  And likewise, her gaze returned to the softening expression of Esper, to which she decided to turn that question about around on her.  "What are you doing in the woods tonight?"  If it was such an unfortunate bad thing for her to be there, then why was she there?