The Butterfly

Aine nodded again. "So far, it seems like a nice place ter live. I've only met Pump an' ye, 'owever, so my views on other wolves 'ave no' been tested... Yet." She looked away towards the trees. She muttered under her breath. "An' what's more, there ain't a sign of the foaming mouth disease..." She shook her head and turned back towards Thistle, her eyes were dark and stormy for an instant before returning to their usual, bright selves. Ragnar, hmm?... That's very... That's an interestin' name. Then again, my name is pretty interestin', too." She chuckled. "Well, ye may tell 'im tha' I congratulate 'im as well. An' I'll make sure ter keep myself in check around 'im."

Aine smiled brightly. "Anyway, I certainly 'ope I fit in 'ere. I'll make sure I fill the caches ter the brink!"