Swiftcurrent Creek death to los campesinos

It wasn't long before her call was answered. 

Pan rose to her feet as a wolf approached, her own ultraviolet gaze meeting the dull gold of the other. The prickling feeling remained itching just below her skin, this time with the feeling of being watched. It was almost a relief when a low chuff broke the silence; the girl felt herself soften slightly and she dipped her head in greeting. 

Swiftcurrent Creek. "Quite fitting," she replied, cracking a small smile as she finally had a name to match the scent and the river. Though something about the curtness of the other woman made her doubt she'd get a smile in response. "I'd like to know more about this pack, Swiftcurrent Creek?" she continued. And may I join you? She caught herself, curious, keenly awaiting a reply.