Stavanger Bay the lighthouse

her eyes watch as he rises to his full height.  it is not difficult for any wolf to tower over natshana, but she does not appear to flinch at the minor display of power.  instead, she continues to observe him in silence, a quiet ferocity in her pale eyes.  he offers his name, and she is quite surprised (though she does not show it).  whether by sheer luck or the other wolf's knowledge of social graces, he seems to have ascertained what she had asked for.  she feigns confusion briefly, before invoking an expression of clarity and understanding on her face once he speaks his name for a second time.

"kna-ven," she says it back to him, seeming to try the sounds out for herself.  her muzzle, too, indicates her companion to show that she appears to have understood the association. "natshana," her name is then given as she mirrors his previous gesture to himself now to indicate herself.  she tilts her head in the same way he had before pausing to think. "kna-ven... pack?" it's the most common word she believes she can get away with knowing without arising suspicion.  packs are a staple of wolf life everywhere, after all.