Wild Berry Meadow prekär

She huffed and puffed, and he relented, slowing his pace a bit, though he did raise an eyebrow at her little, shuffling steps. Wolves were so inelegant. "Take longer strides, child; it'll tire you out less," He said. And make you look like less of a puppy, he thought, though he kept that to himself. He didn't need to be too cutting with his remarks, otherwise he'd have to put up with tears and hurt feelings. She had been surprisingly pliable thus far, a very likeable first subject. 

His breath hissed through his teeth, and he grimaced at the name her parents had given her. He looked down at her with brazen disbelief when she went on to say that her brother had also been given a name that he found to be very ugly- though for some reason, he'd been given somewhat of a redeemable name. She hadn't. This, he felt, was unfair. Were wolves prejudiced against the females of their own kind? He stewed for a moment, finding himself liking wolves less and less. "I am Virtute," He said. "And I think I'll call you Veritas. It means 'truth.'" He said. "It's a much better name, one you can be proud of." He said.