Cedar Sweep I dropped the berry in a stream

"Thanks," said Saena politely. While she didn't think she needed to be warned, as her nose worked as well as any wolf's and she was a hunter to boot, it was nice getting a verbal warning than an aggressive physical one. She bore a few scars from her past altercations and few of them were fairly won, most of them at the hands of outrageously aggressive wolves or wildlife. She was always happy to see a more reasonable creature, and her respect for Ragna, while small for now, was instantaneous.

She thought to ask about Arunik'ra, but was thrown for a loop when Ragna shot her a question first. Who? she thought, wracking her brain for any memory of a wolf named Ragnar. There was none, but the name was vaguely familiar nonetheless, as if she'd heard it before but couldn't identify it.

"I don't think so," said Saena pensively. "I, ah, don't really remember my parents. I was orphaned young." The story wasn't quite like that, but Saena was already filling in the gaps in her memory with false recollections and it was the closest she could imagine. She remembered Lasher but inherently knew that Lasher was not her father, though he had helped care for her like one. Who her parents really were eluded her still.

"That name is kind of familiar, though," Saena went on, "so who knows. Maybe I just don't remember him."