Wapun Meadow sun and moon

I am very different, the stranger replied, succinct and confident. There was a very faint lilt to the way the female spoke, but Njal was neither attentive enough or intelligent enough to recognize the slight accent; he only reflected upon the curiosity within the voice for a moment, and moved on. She was sizing him up in a demure manner - and in return he watched her, traced the outline of her face, and committed her smell to memory despite lacking a name.

A passing remark slipped from her lips, but it brought a sense of pride to Njal. The wilds were beautiful indeed. They held an allure which had, thus far, brought only good things to the creek pack. Their numbers seemed to always be growing - but the male paused in his reflection. He thought of what little room there truly was and reminded himself that the Sveijarn brood could not sustain themselves for much longer.

I would advise, if you are looking for a place to rest... To keep moving. It wasn't a threat exactly, but the words held a foreboding aura to them that Njal regretted. He hadn't quite let go of the issues between the creek and the mountain pack, and wasn't about to hand them a possible addition to their ranks. "The wolves on the mountain are led by... A rather unhinged individual," That was putting it lightly (and far too nicely according to the gamma); "And the river pack is overflowing with strong bodies."

The river pack. He couldn't even say its name, the mere thought of Swiftcurrent causing guilt to flood his heart - and potentially show upon his face. Njal was good at hiding his emotions, but perhaps not that good.