Great Bear Wilderness I'm building this house on the moon

No trouble was good. Winter may have been past them, but there were still dangers in grave wounds in the wilderness. Just as there were dangers in strangers and sometimes even in numbers—he knew those woods had their own history and many stories to tell, and he had only been privy to a few of them. He remained a passive third wheel as their conversation dipped between him and themselves and as introductions were passed around; this time it was the wolfdog who threw a kind barb in his direction, and he smiled demurely.

”It helps to let to be able to get a word in edgewise,” he suggested, ”but I suppose that's my fault for interrupting. I'm Dirge.” At least now they were acquainted... and he hadn't been run off in some sort of misunderstanding. At least not yet, anyway. ”Now that we've got that out of the way, perhaps you'll permit me a chance to satisfy my curiosity—where are you two from? It's been a while since we've had strangers out this way.” Cadeau he was certain did not belong to anywhere in particular, but Tundra? He could sense a medley of things, which at the very least suggested she had somewhere to go.