Ankyra Sound I ain't ever had a type, having a type takes two

He arched a brow at her.

What kind of name am I supposed to have?

Skookumchuck was inquisitive; his head cocked to the side and his tail idled.

She hadn't offered hers. He had nothing to compare to. The wolves he was born and raised among all bore names like his; the name their mother gave them and a name to mark when they grew from whelp to hunter and gave back to the pack that had kept them fed and protected. The former seldom had meaning. The latter was inspired by the events of the day they took their first proper game.