Black Morass i've been looking all over the place for a place for me

She said nothing at first, aside from a low grunt to acknowledge his words.
Why would they be stopped? 
"Kynareth isn't well liked. He tends to be more intimidating to others than myself, and he doesn't play nice all the time with wolves not of the Saints. That's what my pack is called...the Saints." She assumed the stranger would piece it together fairly quickly. The Saints of the Dying Light. 
"Rest assured though, I'm not like my Grandmaster. Now, where's home?" Nyra looked at the man again, pausing briefly in stride so they could walk shouldee to shoulder. 
"Or are you looking for a new home?" She asked with curiosity, genuine interest in her fiery hues.