Whitefish River And I hope that you'll remember me

Riley held his composure as they waited, though he glanced often to Orlaith for silent reassurance. They were met in short order by a woman who in Riley's estimation, was hard as stone and willowy as the whipthin vines that grew persistently over shale. He only glanced at her a moment before looking away, but his first impressions of the fox-faced leader were that she was of very different cloth than Donovan.

Orlaith vouched for him, and Riley only looked up once the phoenix was done speaking. It took several seconds for him to formulate a response, and there was an awkward lull in between the conversation before Riley spoke again.  "I'm Riley." He nearly said Redleaf, but held his tongue. What good had his mother ever done for him -- and why did he still have her name? It was then Riley first considered he needed a new last name, one that tied in his upbringing with his identity -- which was a distinctly different thing. "I'm looking for a pack." He looked at the ground once more, the silence yawning between them as Riley fumbled with words. "I can earn my keep."