Shadewood Honey when I write, get a tight flow spark

His head canted, not understanding her soft-spoken words. So instead he stared, waiting for something. 
Until he got bored. 

He rumbled softly, in the ursine tongue that he doubted the dark female to understand, "Give me your name, girl." If she understood, the shadow would be impressed, but didn't get his hopes up. He instead averted his gaze to the trees, watching small birds flit through them and ready for the winter; much like he should be doing. When he was satisfied with the wolf in front of him, he would go back to finishing his den. 
If she didn't please the brute, he would be in a dark mood indeed.