Whitebark Stream every hurricane gets its name from a girl like this

Sorry you get a short phone post :o

Thuringwethil shrugs in response, brushing it off. If the herd is gone--in the other wolf's mind--he won't have to cross the stream and risk his health. How that isn't helpful, she doesn't dwell on, but it sits weird in her stomach for only a moment. He shows whatever appreciation he can muster and she brushes it off, watching him across the distance. It isn't too far of a jump or swim in the warmer months but the risk is far too high in the winter. Higher up the stream, however, might be easier to cross and she doesn't bother to lead him that way.

"In a way, yes," she decides. "I have claimed Sleeping Dragon with my companion, Gyda." The young leader turns her nose behind her to the volcanic mountain behind her. There had been no signs of activity thus far and she's assumed it safe to take. In the future, their plans may change, but for now and through the rest of winter it is their home. "My name is Thuringwethil. What of you?"