Felltree Marsh Could it be?

Lennon’s ventures hadn’t ceased, and for the most part he was managing well. Occasionally the cold became almost unbearable, but he would just sing a tune and he would be distracted almost instantly. He hadn’t noticed his cross from the valley into taiga yet, despite their distinct differences. His songs truly did grip the young male and throw him into another world. When I get older, losing my head, many years from now. His tail bounced around with the melody. Every step had no purpose, forward, background, they were all the same. He had no intention, only to (maybe) find some company for a short while, if not he’d carry on. 

He wasn't pulled out out of his self-induced trance until he heard another voice, his ears lifted in its direction. His gleaming chestnut eyes following, and placing himself upon a snow pelted wolf, not very far away. It was likely she had noticed him long before the vice versa. The boy tilted his head in interest, but also puzzlement. ”What do you mean?” It wasn’t the most formal introduction into a conversation, but he was too charmed by her comment to make a better one. His subtle accent made it clear he wasn’t from near, but it wasn’t thick enough to be somewhere extremely far either.