Bearclaw Valley cursed to hold a weight you cannot bare

Gannet smiled as Ashlar hid behind him. He did nothing to correct it either, as he didn't mind the boy was shy. He would likely get over it in time. Gannet himself wasn't one of many words, though time with Mona had made him slightly more vocal than before.

He was looking to find a route around without disturbing the hunting man, but instead it seemed his presence interrupted anyway.

We are, the white wolf replied, an apologetic undercurrent in his voice. I am Gannet. This is Ashlar. Who had lived around here, did he remember?

We were looking for the Hollow, but they are gone. He settled on telling rather than asking who Newt belonged to. He wasn't recognizable from Terence's pack but could have been a newcomer. He seemed around Ashlar's age; young to be too far from parents, but not unheard of.