Wapun Meadow Sunshine, Daisies, Butter Mellow...

"Cry." the fiery wolf tested the name on her tongue, nodding in satisfaction, "It is a respectable name, one of power, one of rally... But also hides a sense of sorrow. A good name." Speaker nodded. She was not psychic in any way. She believed names had power. The name Cry, the word cry. The word that could be used to mean that response to the emotion of sadness and despair, but Sara also remembered its other definition, the cry as if to scream out, to rebel and rise against. A powerful cry, indeed.

Speaker was silent for a moment at his next words. She gazed at him carefully as a genuine smile crept up onto the male's face. A good smile. Not like Lothario's. The idea of that wretched wolf caused a shiver to coarse through her spine. She shoved the memories away. And with a voice of pure sincerity, he asked his next question.

Have you no home to go to,  Speaker?

She seemed surprised by his openness to the idea. Was this an invitation? To where? She answered honestly in turn. "No, Cry, I am new here, and have no pack to turn to."