Wapun Meadow tiptoe

She blinked owlishly, her half-lidded gaze showing some respect for Irene’s wisdom, which triggered a tumbling pool of thoughts. 

She had been born to a land where blood had meant everything. Where the name of a family was a silver spoon to be suckled by the few who had been born to the right parents. She had not been one of them- and had left, leaving behind the name she had known as a child. 

Yes, names were powerful things; but she did not believe that sharing it could ever lessen its potency. 

Ameline Bearclaw, She answered without hesitation. She would wield whatever powers came from sharing her own name, but would be appreciative, all the same, that Irene had shared hers. 

My name ith powerful here- but jutht knowing it won’t be enough to thave you. She said. Only your actionth will. You trethpath on my landth, knowin’ my name ain’t gonna be enough to thave you. She spoke with a light tone of apology in her voice, figuring that Irene would understand. But like I thay; ain’t mine, yet, but we hunt here, an’ we like it that way. She said. 

’Leth, of courthe, you’re lookin’ for a plathe to thettle down?