Shadewood and if i go far away i know you'll find another slave

He couldn’t help himself; he laughed. It began as a forced attempt at his usual poker face, before cracking into a grin, evolving into a snort, then erupting into a chortle of short barks. RedHawks?? What in the hell??

“Okay, hold on,” he began, wintery gems sending an avalanche of jesting her way. “Don’t tell me you guys got a theme going on here. Like, tell me there’s a mascot, or like, some kinda bird thing you guys worship. RedHawks.” The laugh got more intense as he pictured this witchly old woman leading a parade of scarlet birds and nothing but red wolves down a trail. Did they decorate themselves with red feathers, too? Did they eat everything but birds?

Bringing his hysteria back to earth, he dried up his laugh and admired the woman. Though the name was silly, and as ‘meh, kill it’ as she looked about mentioning it, she still represented it. 

“You must be the most out of place one there, miss.” Well, he’d feel the same way if he traveled up north with Gwen and her current pack; it wouldn’t be any worse. He hadn’t known the woman’s name however, and deciding it would be a decent time to, he gave her his lifelong alias. “I’m Cry.”