Hideaway Strath One in the chamber, blood in the water, my love

As quiet as the former pack's territory was on the inside, the borders were another story. Ephraim was barely over the rocks when an unfamiliar voice called out to him, although the name was totally wrong. His first instinct was to freeze on the spot, but ample time alone had taught him to push past that instinct and keep moving instead. Stopping was a surefire way to allow an enemy into striking distance, and he didn't know if this wolf was a friend or a foe.

Everyone was a foe, of course, but some showed their teeth more readily than others. So he scrambled down the other side and paced evenly, cutting a diagonal line that would bring him close enough to Wraen to speak, but not close enough for her to get the jump on him. He swept his long tail low at his hocks, hoping to maintain a guise of friendliness until he could get a better read on her intentions.

As for Elfie, he had no idea who that was. Ephraim was tempted to play along in the event this Elfie was someone who looked just like him, but the coywolf doubted it enough to not commit to that. The advantages pretending to be Elfie would grant weren't worth the risk. Instead, Ephraim lifted his narrow snout and called back a vague, what?