Dawn positioned herself in a sarcastically suggestive way. She cocked her hips jauntily at an unreasonable angle, one paw resting on the elevated hip. She posed for maximum effect, her little, fuzzy body looking utterly ridiculous. An arm came up and smoothed back the fur atop her head. The crest of hair waved back to front as her paw passed.
“Dawn, pretty. No?” Dawn asked.
Dawn is full of energy and glides among the cottonwood trees she calls home in the Realm of the Middle Damned. The world she originated from is unknown, nor does anyone recognize her as being a species indiginous to their home habitats in life. Regardless of the inscrutable past or dimunitive size, her eye for character and an uncanny inclination toward petty mischeif wins the admiration of all she meets.