Bearclaw Valley it was all right with me

Sif floundered briefly - she didn't know that word, after all. But a moment later, good sense took hold, and she realized Indra must be a name. Laurel, too. Automatically, the dark girl matched up the extra name with the scent of another shewolf that featured heavily on Indra's pelt.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," said Sif carefully, picking out a phrase that Poet had taught her to say with the utmost care. After that, she was at a loss for how to procede. She knew a few other conversational phrases, but none of them seemed to fit the mood between the two of them. She was half-tempted to move along, but the delicate state of the other kept her hovering nearby. "Hurt," she said after a moment, not quite sure what she meant by that. You are hurt, obviously. But perhaps who or why as well.