Mudminnow River One by One

Mudminnow's freshwater aromas were a welcome change from the North's alpine scent -- a perfume that perpetuated the youth's emotional discord -- and Valtyr contentedly watched the small silver fish dance just beneath its surface. The ducks and egrets were too far off the bank for the boy to even dream of catching, and so he sniffed along the water's edge for a tasty frog or fat water vole instead. 

However, a holler in the distance caused his burnt ears to snap erect, bronze eyes searching the flat earth for signs of an approaching wolf. The white male was not hard to spot -- his pale coat flashing amongst the verdant scrim -- and he moved with a lofty gait, his good health and coltish physique easily marked from yards away. Valtyr stood rigid on the bank, knowing he probably couldn't outrun the pale man if he decided to give chase, and shrunk his posture a bit to make it clear he wanted no trouble. 

Though the other appeared friendly with a relaxed face and open expression, Valtyr was suspicious. What did he want?