Grouse Thicket Hakkerskaldyr.

He confirmed the information she'd already acquired at some point, although it soothed something in her to have it corroborated by a perfect stranger. Not for the first time, she reminded herself that X could probably make the trip in half the time it took a wolf, if that. If only she could howl back and forth, that would've made things even easier. Towhee felt queerly bereft for a split second, then quashed it. She was going to put effort into looking at the bright side, if it fucking killed her. Because the other option—hating everything about it—was slowly killing her already.

"I don't travel much. Bum leg," Towhee said idly. "What's it like there? Take it," she repeated, motioning to the grouse when she noticed him looking at the dead bird again. A thought struck her and Towhee felt the words gush out of her mouth before she could put a single thought into them. "If you don't want it, take it back to the copse and knock a wolf by the name of Niamh upside the head with it. Tell her it's from me." Oh, but he didn't know her name. "Towhee."