Hideaway Strath aint going back to barton hollow

The man paced in front of her like he owned the place, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) that the bits of debris and pollen dust still clinging to his pelt made the whole sight somewhat ridiculous. Perhaps he did own the place. Perhaps he didn't care in the slightest what a waif like Rue thought of him or the state of his coat. Hers probably looked just as bad, now that she thought about it... 

The man eyed her appraisingly, no doubt unimpressed by the scruffy, unassuming creature in front of him. That was one thing Rue had going for her as a lone wolf-- her appearance rarely provoked hostility or defensiveness. Rue nodded at the man's correct assumption. "The mountains, the northeast chain," she answered simply. 

He continued, going on about wenches and pirates. Rue's headed tilted once more. Although she was a much more reserved wolf herself, she appreciated this man's stream-of-consciousness manner of speaking. At least she didn't have to guess at what he was thinking. 

"Ruenna Redfern," she replied, a hint of her previous smile reemerging. "Not a pirate, or a wench, or really even a damsel. More like a... a stray, I suppose." Rue looked to the man expectantly, waiting to hear his name in return.