Bitterroot Valley a song note

Amusement flickers in his gaze briefly. The insult might have been irritating, if Zephyr didn't know he deserves it. Do deer make good friends? He asks, entertained by the thought.
He's starting to catch on to the hints of a second language, even with his relative inexperience. The accent might have been an immediate clue, but he's never had the opportunity to make that connection; his mothers' version of French had been accented by the common tongue rather than the reverse, though he doesn't know that. His gaze catches briefly on the rippling waves of the horse's mane, and he feels the sudden inexplicable urge to buy Dove shampoo, until he remembers that he doesn't know what that is. Name's Zephyr. Yours? And what does that word mean? The last one. This time, he doesn't even bother trying to pronounce it.