Dahozhoni Meadow does my breath smell?

It took her a moment to recognize the name; she had all but forgotten about the bird. She was reminded that Cambria was one of the weirdos she had met here, but at least the bird was no longer around, so she could forgive him that. Actually, she found that the thought of the bird did not even bother her now. She was Cambria's now, and any atypical traits he might have—like shortening her name—were merely foreign seasoning on a very delicious dish.
"Yes," she replied weakly. "We had been traveling together, and we had come to a pack. Right after we introduced ourselves, he launched himself at Etienne, the wolf you met. His pack mate swooped in and tore out his throat. I did not have time to react; I still do not know why he did went after Etienne. It was so—so surreal, the whole thing."
Odessia's brow furrowed through the entire explanation, the tightness in her chest a mere echo of how she had felt immediately after the fact. The shock had been debilitating, and she still felt aftershocks at times.
"What about you? What was your life like before me?" she asked.