Totoka River caravanserai

Her disbelief was written across her face and for a moment Arturo contemplated if Riptide — but no. She did not smell as if she'd been in Teekon Wilds for long. Even Teekon carried it's own unique scent outside of the packs that conquered it's wilderness; and she did not — as Atoll had — addressed him during her Den Night as Riptide; thus Arturo put the brief contemplation to rest. Albeit with some measure of internal relief. “That is interesting,” The gangster murmured in a contemplative tone, studying her with a renewed fascination. “Why do you call me Moon-Fallen? What does it mean?” Of course he was clever enough to put the two words: moon and fallen together to gather some semblance of a rough idea but it did little to curb his intrigue.

She shrugged and Arturo let it drop then, ears cupping forth, attentive to her question as it left her lips. His weight shifted slightly and his gaze left her to draw in the flame color that danced on the flowing Totoka's waters. “It is called the Totoka River,” Arturo spoke gesturing towards the waters with a jab of his muzzle in it's direction before his salmon pink tongue slid across his lips. “The greater wilderness is called Teekon.” He offered so she had both the specific and general names for her location. He, himself, wasn't sure how he'd come to learn what the locals called the Wilderness but nevertheless he had come to calling it Teekon as those before him ...and as those after him.