Witch's Marsh life is a game, where the player must appear ridiculous

The brown she-wolf was irritated – though it didn’t faze the Frostfur wolf much. Her snapping tone was taken only with indifference, and he simply made a mental note to make this conversation short.
 
Of course, her words would have stirred a simple nod – the ones that determined that his neighbors were fine. And yet Saena lost her tail to a bear. The constriction in his chest gripped him instantly, and he regarded the she-wolf almost incredulously – a feat for a wolf who so carefully guarded his emotions. He swallowed thickly then, his ears sliding back to his skull. “A bear attacked your lands? We had a recent bear run in, too..” He paused, his tongue suddenly feeling numb as Swift’s face floated to the front of his mind. “My son.. he lost both of his eyes.”
 
And with those words, Scimitar almost forgot to introduce himself – drawing himself up slightly, he gave his head a shake, as if in a fog. “Scimitar Frostfur of Jade Fern Grove.. previously Nova Peak.”