Swiftcurrent Creek your mommas a true beauty, butt makes me weep, i call it a boo-hooty

As Clock leaned in to greet the pack's newest, the young mother scrutinized every line on his face for signs that he was suddenly going to turn aggressive. He could kill her baby in an instant, but then she could kill him in an instant, close as she was. Some little alarm bells dinged quietly to life in her head, but Wylla ignored them in favour of introducing Tiercel to the first random pack mate to happen upon her. After all, she was going to be raised among these wolves. Just because Wylla hadn't made any effort to socialize with and engage them didn't mean she wanted isolation and solitude for her daughter.

"Tier—" she started, and then her hoarse voice cracked and she coughed into the crook of her arm, sending a wave of breath sweeping over the sooty pup's down. Do you even know how inconvenient it is for your voicebox to live in a slightly moldy log and not exercise your vocal cords for days on end? Answer: extremely. "Tiercel. Her name."