Moonspear the north remembers

Aye! she answers cheerily, which were he a stranger he would never know she had a warmer side. Orca moved with a skip in her step closer to him, grin ever present. What luck this was! Orca nodded as he seemed to confirm with her her name, but tacked on playfully: the second. The best, she wanted to tack on after—but had too healthy a respect for the dead. My friends call me Cici, where that came from she did not know—only that she wanted to be known as something different, by him. 

And that she wanted to be friends, too. They were from sister villages… why not? and you are… Arrluk, she recalled, appreciating the name but, thinking herself clever, asking: what do yer friends call ye? Her tail wagged as she observed his greeting, liking that plenty—but it was more that she was quite distracted by him than anything else that she didn’t think to return the gesture. He was a right braw lad, he was! 

Now she stopped in her tracks, close enough to him where they both had personal space but that she could sniff at him. Tentatively did she reach out her muzzle to take in all of the scents from the sister village if he allowed her to, and withdrew as she answered him with an earnest, och, aye it is! What are ye doing out this way? Mind if I accompany ye? he had little choice in that much—the giddy Orca had already made the decision that she would.