Ankyra Sound I ain't ever had a type, having a type takes two

The last thing she expected him to say was that he'd tried that already. What? What an idiot. Wylla's suggestion had been purely for the humour of him scraping his muzzle and not because she thought rubbing his face on bark would be helpful, but it seemed like he was just that desperate. It was a little bit sad, truth be told. She could relate to having something stuck in your teeth but wasn't sure what he thought she could do about it. She wasn't really friendly enough to be helpful just for the sake of it.

But, no, he was probably just a plain weirdo, because he introduced himself in about a hundred words, leaving her with a dumbfounded look on her face. Skookumchuck was a strange name to begin with but what followed was even moreso. It was with a thousand-yard stare that Wylla regarded him then, before quite abruptly blurting, umm, what the fuck kind of name is that?

She didn't answer his question, mostly because it was lost in her bewilderment for that extremely ... grand introduction.