Haunted Wood I used to be somebody.

Technically not a false name, though! :P

Hey, Uyo? Came a voice from the edge of the pit; not one he knew, but Revui did not know any of the beasts that kept him on a first-name basis anyway. They were all foreigners, corrupted by some sort of consuming, spreading malignancy. Perhaps he had been infected by their callous attitudes already; or more likely, he had been instilled with his own version by his parents and his siblings. The wolves of Moonspear would always be the strongest wolves in his mind, but they could also be the coldest. The boy's ears turned to cup the air and he gave a lethargic glance to where the sound originated, hearing the rest of the query: What is this stuff?

The boy—or the shape of what Revui presumed was a boy, as he could not rise and inspect them closely—mentioned something about vengeance that didn't quite make sense. Beyond the fact it was a joke and Revui lacked a funny bone, he had not been introduced to the patriarch of this band of ruffians and did not associate the word with a name. With a snort to clear the pieces of ash from his snout, Revui dryly intoned: Not snow. Not sure. It wasn't cold, it wasn't as white nor as sharp-tasting, and he had nothing similar to reference.