Silver Creek Pencils and Pens

He was surprised to learn she was from the North as well. Like her, he began to wonder if they had ever come across each other. It was impossible to remember anything specifically dealing with the wolves that spoke French. He wished that he could say that he'd seen her, tell her some dazzling romantic tale about it, but that was a lie and he didn't want to get caught in a lie.

He had expected her parents to speak it, perhaps if his own had he would know French too. Her question seemed slightly playful, what he wanted her to say in French. He considered it for a moment, talking while he did so. "Interesting to think we might have crossed paths sometime, in the North. I think I would have remembered you, though. You aren't a wolf someone easily forgets, at least, you're not a wolf I could easily forget. But, back to the French..." He paused to think again, letting the flirtatious comment settle in the air. He cracked a smile after a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards crookedly. "Back-Flip. What's the word for back-flip? Tell me my French name."