Kids are still depressed when you dress them up

Pachou chittered, preening at the compliment, though the wariness in Benson was twin to his own. The wolverine soon scuttled behind Malalia's forelegs as the young woman appraised this stranger. Memory problems, he'd told her. Well, that would certainly explain how he'd made his way here... His next statement only drew forth a sense of alarm, and her eyes widened as she shook her head, a rueful grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "No, not at all." It was the battlefield, sure, but that didn't mean she flashed her fangs without the proper protocol. Poor wolf! What a query, and hopefully one that only came from the fear, the shock of being in a strange place.

"I'm not going to hurt you. But we should probably get out of here," she prompted. Meanwhile, her head swung around the ashen fields. The yearling hadn't been this far north herself, but a little further in that direction stood trees, a formidable wood. Her gaze settled once more on the stranger, head dipped in a silent question. Making the journey wouldn't be an inconvenience; she wasn't expected back home yet. She and Benson could go there, and then... improvise.