Two Rivers Isle wher'd ya come from, wher'd ya go

The stranger responded in an interesting way, one Atticus wouldn't have predicted. Although much more entertaining than he hoped, why, this was quite the wolf he had just met! The suggested nickname made his thoughts spin around in a leap of joy, similar to the one he had demonstrated earlier. "Flip is just fine." He insisted. The boy squinted, fumes pouring out his ears as he constructed a fitting name for his new acquaintance. Then, like a ding on a timer, it was clear he had manufactured exactly what he wanted. "I'll call you Buffalo."  His mahogany coat and tremendous size made the newly coined title rather self-explanatory.  

The offer was tempting, he would love to show his skill- especially since his slender silhouette is often mistaken for lack of mercenary prowess. His half snarl shifted to a smirk and his tail flicked in a titillating manner. Two bright glaciers gleamed at the challenge, he stared up at the mountain like an overambitious child, a grin suggesting his assumed triumph over earth's most staunch and burly creations. 

His mind being too stimulated with the presence of an interesting buffalo and with months of loneliness behind it, the young kid couldn't think very clearly. Without calculating he immediately threw himself forward with the facade of rage in an attempt to be more menacing. Poorly thrown jaws clenched onto the air beside the titan's shoulder.