Silvertip Mountain I've been coming home all this time

A warm huff of laughter left him at her firm declaration. Not too sure about her age, he'd expected her to be far less coherent, and had given her the preferred shortened form of Grayday. Probably, she wouldn't have much trouble with his whole name, but he'd feel a little silly going back on his introduction. He simply wagged his tail, giving up. You're right, that's not a name. Grayday isn't really, either.

"Steady's not really a name," he pointed out, watching through shaded eyes as she came nearer to him. Two eyes formed out of the fog; a nose. We are lucky I found you around the den, he thought, frowning a bit. You look very much like something to eat, even this close up.

But he did not really want to eat her.

"I did," he said solemnly when she asked about the food. "You seemed very hungry. Have you been getting enough?"

It seemed likely that the rest of the pack was also feeding her. He brought food back on most of his trips out of the territory, and it seemed likely that the rest of the pack would be doing the same thing. It occured to him that he should probably know what was going on with her and the others - foodwise, at least - but he'd been out quite a bit, lately. Chasing ghosts of dreams. Maybe he should pay more attention to the goings-on around Silvertip. He was a part of this pack the same as the rest of them, and he needed to get involved.