Sun Mote Copse Don't be shy, mortal man.

When the muddy male lifted his head above the small patch of water he'd chosen to bathe in, he looked at her with both surprise and some sign of recognition. Niamh was startled, and came to an abrupt halt, ruffled by the tone of his voice and the manner with which he regarded her and-

Wait. Did he just say her name? 

"What the f-" But it was all she managed to blurt before the male brought up her (their??) mother, of all wolves, and she scrunched her nose in confusion, and lurched forward into an aggressive stance as the russet male suddenly lunged toward her, dripping water and mud. She snarled and braced herself- but he seemed to catch himself and with a look conveying something like outraged confusion, he charged her with another question. 

She bristled and bared her teeth for a moment, before she leaned toward him just enough to try and see if his scent registered with her at all. Mostly, he smelled wet and muddy, and he looked like he'd be about the same age as Bronco. She squinted at him. "How is it that you know my name, but you don't know who I am?" She asked. She stalked a few paces toward him, her limbs somewhat stiff as she raised herself up to her full height. Confused as he might be to who she was, she'd leave no room for him to confuse just how big of a deal she was within the pack.