"Yes. You are absolutely a furry, Mr. Pool," Saxsice says gravely, with the tone of someone who is well-accustomed to being the bearer of this news. It's almost a part-time job, at this point.

Then she grumbles, kicking at a rock on the path and wincing a little, having forgotten that she's...completely barefoot. Ouch. "With my luck, seems likely. Maybe they'll feed us to the mantises. Mantids. Some sorta metaphorical group sacrifice." That sounds like something that might happen on an island with no children or baby animals.

"Most of us are regular wolfy colors, but clearly I'm special." She flashes him a grin. "Makes camouflaging a real bitch, though."