Lost Creek Hollow Golden Slumbers

thank youuu!

The wolf whose features were stern spoke, in a way that Skáld could understand. Gunnar would be on his way- the boy could only hope that he had not wandered too far. It seemed that he was in another pack, and he tried to remember the names of the others when the three-legged man beckoned for him to come. Whether he was being led further into the claimed packlands or out toward the borders, he was not sure. 

If this was one of their allies...Then it had to be one of two packs. "Riv'clan, or Swifcunt creek?" He asked tentatively. He could say their names well enough in his own tongue, but trying to make himself sound as though he could speak the common tongue...It sometimes made the words even worse. "I am Skáld." He said meekly, still hoping he would be forgiven for ending up...Wherever he was. "I...Thank."