Felltree Marsh alone and only a sojourner in the land, without friends or the need of them

the stranger commented on his name, saying that it was nice. he’d never had someone who had found his moniker to be of note. most simply accepted it for what it was and moved on in the conversation. the ghostly young man didn’t entirely know how to respond to something of that caliber, so he simply bowed his head and flattened his ears to his crown.
 
when he had inquired about what she was, his sharp yellow gaze latched to her features and waited for the response. she stated that she was a wolf, and he frowned thoughtfully. there was a crease in his brow that suggested he didn’t believe her entirely. “you just don’t look like the wolves i’ve seen,” he said with a small shrug, as though it was a nonchalant statement that he was making. “not that it’s a bad thing…” it wasn’t – as far as he was aware.