Fox's Glade Magical musical break-up hospital

Pyg drew forward and Bhediya drew back. It wasn't meant to be an insult, as she attempted to communicate with an apologetic shift of her ears. The cold was good for clearing the mind and although it was uncomfortable, the benefit was invaluable.

You don't have to have a name at all, if you don't want to. Names -- or specialized sounds, as Bhediya had come to know them -- were always optional. For her four, nearly five years of life, she'd known more than she could count.

Thus, Pyg's fantasy was fruitless. One could only hope that he would understand. I like to be called Bhediya, she replied with a kind twist of her maw, or just wolf. It's what the name means, after all.