Whitefish River Honeycomb

"Like you?" Val parroted the waif, suddenly aware that the marked female could possibly be a threat. His amber ears slicked back as his gaze bumbled around before settling on a distant clump of snow. It was good for him that she chose to steer the conversation in a different direction.

A pack in the making? Valtýr hardly knew the politics of Teekon or the other packs which resides in the range. Only three came to his mind: Swiftcurrent, Duskfire, and Blacktailed Deer Pleateau... but the others eluded his knowledge. Curiosity suddenly tugged at him, and he indulged the stranger with questions, disregarding Runt's snide remark about her own independence. "A new pack? There are more of you? What's it like?" he asked cautiously with a stutter in his tone.