Mudminnow River i raise my flag and i dye my clothes

"No," she said reflexively, when asked if she was from the area. And then, after a beat, she cringed. "Well, yes. Now I am. The hollow, not far off." She stepped nearer to him, close enough for conversation rather than just cautious greetings, and as such could smell that he wasn't one of the wolves who would make up her pack, but of another. It was so strange to her, how many wolves there were in the area. Her home pack had been somewhat inconveniently located at the bottom of a canyon; they hadn't exactly been lousy with visitors. Yet here she couldn't walk a mile without running into somebody new.

"Are you?" she asked, wondering if his pack was nearby. The thought simultaneously explained why she was constantly blundering into others, and made her a little uneasy. Were there territorial disputes? Would there be? She knew Mordecai and Harlyn and whoever else were only just building their borders and staking their claim, and the idea that she'd stepped right into a bubble of tension ready to burst made her want to be sick.