Duck Lake blue heron

Redd did not learn much from his answer that the had wanted, but she did learn things aside. He spoke similar strange words to the boy she’d given a bird to. This time she was not caught off guard, however, and ingested them silently. She did not know if she would learn these words. There were many ways in which to communicate.

Two names. Her ears twitched with interest, but she both did and did not understand. The name with the pack was the name she would hold. A wolf could rarely be two things.

Once I was Wealda. Now Redd. She answered, looking at him calmly. Somehow it felt right that here she would be named something new. What the pack needs, I am. Hunter, caribou chaser, silent shadow. It did not matter so long as she fit.

She had questions but storms were not often patient. It felt the wrong time to test this, though Redd did not often know where those lines lay. So she sorted for the things that felt most important.

You lead, but you follow. Why? He was driven by something she wished to understand. It seemed to drive much of the pack in the same manner.