Hushed Willows who speaks latin?

hellloooo 

The Crook— as Stark had called it— was not like something she was used to. Her own home was generally placed away from others for privacy— not directly beside a handful of strangers. Perhaps that was his thing... make strangers become friends by forcing interaction. They all sleep here, so eventually they were all bound to run into one another. 

She laid half-in half-out of her den, her cream paws crossed in a lady-like manner and her ears pricked. It was dark out, and a few wolves had already made their way back. She sought no one out, but waited patiently for someone to come to her. Though she did enjoy her privacy, meeting the rest of the pack was probably a good thing.