Jade Fern Grove stand up and hold your ground

It would be! :p I don't think Jorunn really knows his last name though. :o Also, no need to match the length, this got away from me, lol.

Jorunn became quickly caught up in his focus upon the scents that lingered on the borders — Scimitar, Bazi, Kaskara: the scents he recognized as the leaders, mixed among the scents of the others; in the sounds that emerged from beyond the safety of the borders, listening for anything out of place. Any little snap of a tree branch that might resound too heavily to be anything other than a larger predator. His eyes scanned the territory outside of the Grove's scent markers, looking for a fleeting shadow that was amiss among the painted grays of the world outside. His vision was impaired by the soft morning sunlight, but this was something that Jorunn was used too. After all, he'd seen the world in shades of gray since he could first open his eyes. He didn't know any different and assumed everyone saw gray and black and white. A sound came from within the Grove's borders, causing the Ragnarsson's ears to perk and swivel back moments before he glimpsed over his shoulder. A shadow approached with the sound of heavy footfalls giving form the closer that Kaskara drew. He had paused for a mere moment but continued on, steeling his shoulders.

Though he did not ignore Kaskara's presence he didn't want to be caught not patrolling, or doing something equally beneficial to the pack. He didn't want word to get back to Bazi that he was slacking off, especially after he'd glimpsed the bear. He felt guilty for not bringing it to his adoptive mother's attention but he couldn't be exactly sure that he'd seen a bear. He saw many things. He saw a silver wolf that looked a lot like him with a missing eye and scars marring his face and muzzle sometimes and not just in his dreams...but he didn't tell anyone about that, either. He had to get close to ascertain that it wasn't just the light playing tricks upon him — though luckily his vision was always better in the dark when colors ceased to matter. 

“Hello,” The Norse boy spoke to her softly, returning her greeting. She slowed her pace so that she didn't out stride his still growing, lanky legs. Presently, his legs felt a little too long for him, his paws a little too big. He was growing and rapidly but his growing body was awkward and to his chagrin would continue to be so until he filled out. He was large, already, a broadness to his shoulders that hadn't been there as a pup. He was a teenager now and it showed. “I'm good,” Jorunn responded offering her a small smile. “...thank you,” He breathed after a pause to sniff at the borders. The words still tasted strange in his mouth. Thank you, Please. Words that the old, extinct Jorunn would have never used. He'd been a Prince once. The Jarl's eldest son ...and now...now he was just a pauper. He wasn't really sure who he was or where he fit into the world. He was an orphan with no identity. 

“How are you?” Jorunn returned the question to be polite, though he was genuinely interested. He didn't know the Grove's Beta well but she made the effort to speak with him, as opposed to ignoring him as she could have. He owed it to her to return her kindness. He owed so much to the wolves of the Grove and it was something that Jorunn knew he'd never be able to repay.