Grouse Thicket Whiskey please

"Unless you want to know, if you need to dig a grave for him," Wraen replied with an amused smile. At a closer inspection she had a distinct feeling that the face was familiar and that they had definitely met at some point. But with so much on her shoulders and so many problems to solve she could not for life recall the meeting itself. Almost eight months is a wolf equivalent of a life-time after all.

"I think that we have met, but my old leaky memory refuses to tell me when and how," she told him with a sly smile. "So, you have two options now - you can rewrite the history and come up with something super-impressive that ends up with me - unfortunately losing my memory or..." she furrowed her brow and looked up briefly (that move is considered to help gain information influx from the cosmos, beats me) and finished. "Or we can begin on blank slate with introductions and all."