Hoshor Plains ommatophoca

The young male's amber gaze followed the direction in which the female thrust her dark-colored maw.

"Moonsong..." he repeated, trying to remember the name. He recalled Kukutux mentioning there were a group of "Moon" packs that were related somehow. 'Mac tried to tuck this information into his memory.

He nodded, his eyes sweeping their surroundings, "That's for sure..." He trailed off, before seeming to startle. Good grief, where were his manners?

"Oh, sorry... I suppose it was rude of me to not give you my name. I'm Sumac. B-but my friends just call me 'Mac. You can call me whatever you like," he added, absently rubbing the back of one paw with the other again, "If I'm bugging you, I'll leave."

Sumac realized suddenly that he wished making friends came more easily for him, but he'd never needed the skill before. Before, he had a large, loving family, and they were all the company he could ever need. Now, with no one but Easy for company, he now knew he'd need to develop those skills - and quickly - if he wanted to avoid a hard, desolate existence. But damn it, exercising all these social niceties was so confusing and exhausting. It seemed what was polite to one was considered an offense to another!