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

Her name was long and full of syllables.  "Thuring— Thurr... whatever," stumbled Reek in an ineloquent jumble, trying, and failing to pronounce the stranger's name.  Given the proper practice, Reek would have been able to make a solid effort, but he didn't feel as if he had the time to have Thuringwethil guide him through the pronunciation.  Instead, Reek proceded with his own introduction.

Respectfully, he dipped his thread to the alpha across the river. "I'm Reek," he replied with his simple, single syllabic name.  "— and I guess this makes us neighbors."  He wasn't quite sure how he felt about a pack laying down roots so close to his own just yet.  Comptetion for resources, especially now during winter, ruled his mind.  

Reek's tone turned serious, but it wasn't aggresive.  It was time to talk business. "I lead a pack along with my mate just south of here.  The hunting lands beneath the Qeya River are ours, the rest is fair game for you."  It seemed to be a square deal in his mind. "Fair?" he asked with a lifted brow.