Deepwood Weald keeper

As expected, he seemed… a little weirded out. Maybe even confused. But did she care? Not one bit. Rhaena had always been this way: bright-eyed, full of warmth, the kind of wolf who found light even in the darkest corners. She had spent her days seeing the best in others, offering kindness without hesitation. And so far, no one had taken advantage of it. Hopefully, no one ever would. The world, in her eyes, was soft, painted in warm hues of trust and innocence.
Her tail gave a hopeful wag as the man took a small bite of the rabbit, then nudged the rest back toward her paws. Was this it? Did she just make a new friend? A broad smile stretched across her face, excitement bubbling up in her chest.
Then he spoke again; deep, foreign words that rolled over her like a wave. One ear twitched. Then the other. Whatever he said entered one ear and slipped right out the other. But she didn’t want to seem rude, so she simply nodded along, pretending she understood.
But wait; where were the introductions? „Me,” she said, tapping a paw to her chest. „Rhaena.” A name she had once disliked as a pup but had since grown into. It was hers, after all; unique, uncommon, just like her.
She then lifted her paw and pointed toward him, head tilting curiously. „You?”