Hoshor Plains Cheeseburger Backpack

He gave a short nod of greeting. "Nice to meet you Rhiannon." When she asked for his name, he didn't hesitate to answer, like the last time he met with a stranger. Maybe it was because, unlike Cicero, she smelled of no pack. A loner, as he had been what seemed like ages ago. "Issun."

"Are you from a pack?" he asked, ears perked for an answer. The teen was confident he knew the answer would be "no" but you were never sure. Maybe the woman had been traveling for a while, and pack scents washed away. Maybe she washed it away deliberately.