Lost Creek Hollow eyes like frozen planets

wren let loose a chuff. the hubris of this little sticky-fingered whelp to waltz in here and drink their water!
she should have felt sympathetic immediately, and she knew this, and yet it did not fully come to her until the tiny peep of greeting was heard. silvertongue introduces the clan while the songbird bites back her agitation. did borders mean nothing anymore? and where the hell were this girl's parents?
my name's wren, she gestures to herself with a lift of a forepaw. that's silvertongue.