Moonspear and watered heaven with their tears

The herald's ears flipped back against his head at the question. He did not like being looked at in this way — the same way that Kukitux once had, he realized. She'd had a more kindly disposition, though.

"My name is White Elk, son of Andes," he replied, answering the simpler question first. As for the second, he took a breath —

"Loyalty is aligning your goals with someone else's, and thinking of their needs and well-being as often as you think of your own," he replied, the answer coming to him easily. They'd spoken often of loyalty in his natal pack. "It's adding to the cache. It's digging a well together. It's investing in someone you trust to invest in you —even when you have little to give. Even when they have little to give."

Loyalty was at the core of any pack, he thought. He had no notion that others might think differently, or that they might even think him wrong or naive for these staunch beliefs. He gazed back at the young female, uncomfortable but wholly without guile.