Dejah stands, uses the back of her wrist to shove the hair out of her eyes.

"Good morning," she drawls. "He's a calot." Woola prances around the two of them, grinning broadly, wagging his stubby little tail. "Thank you Woola. I think we're fine here, if you want to go for a run."

Woola woofs and waddles over to broad flat spot in the sun, and flops down contentedly.

Dejah wanders over to join Curtis, standing perhaps a bit too close. "He's a very unique creature. He believes that I belong to him. And if you belong to him, he will follow you anywhere. Loyal to a fault."