Lost Creek Hollow What in Sam hell is a puma?

Ah, so the boy had been looking for a friend, and the friend was gone. Mink did not know how that felt; he had never been particularly close to anyone growing up—well, aside from his grandmother, and upon remembering her the man felt a strong sense of loss, and could finally commiserate with the boy. It wasn't the same thing really. Losing a friend hurt, but there was always the chance for reconnecting, while losing a member of one's family (especially someone so near and dear, like the old woman who raised him) was comparatively more poignant.

Mink opened his mouth with the hopes that something clever and appropriate would tumble out of it, but that did not happen. Instead the boy fixed him with a sharp look and flaunted his suspicious nature, asking after him. Mink's mouth closed and became its characteristic smile, softened with memories of loss this time and less dominant across his narrow snout. My name is Mink. I was accepted a bit ago by Terance—who I presume is your father..? That was how wolf packs worked, right?

It occurred to Mink then, that he had no real understanding about the inner workings of pack life; his presumption could've been totally wrong. Eager to forge ahead with making a new friend (even if it was a young boy), Mink went on to say, What was your friend like? Maybe I've seen them. The man was a gatherer of stories, and was more than happy to use such skills to help this boy through a loss.