Porcupine Ridge catcalls and mercy blows

Reyson stood tall and stalwart as he always did. He did not make himself smaller, though a part of him growled low to himself that he should have. The youth was clearly not used to someone as large as he. And he sometimes forgot his scars, especially the new ones, made him look like frankenstein's monster.

What are you doing here? You are not of Mereo. Are you of Paleo or Epoch? Are you lost?

Reyson didn't know this youngling. He didn't even know the color of his coat, he could not think of any wolves in his minds eye that matched this one, except maybe lady fennec, but she was more white than grey. Who was he? And where was he going and could Reyson even help?