Bearclaw Valley in all these places I'd look for you

Movement to his side caught the corner of his eye, and his icy gaze flashed that way, landing on the figure of a lithe brown. . .she-wolf? Phocion cocked his head, perplexed. She didn't look like a wolf, either! Part coyote? No, he surmised, no coyote in her, either.

He was still staring bewildered at the newcomer--who held his pack scent--when the other girl spoke. Phocion looked back at her, his face warming a bit but otherwise remaining particularly confused.

"Putting your. . .deer back?" He resisted the urge to scratch his ears, checking for wax. Had he heard her correctly? Was she hunting the deer, or playing with it? The latter could be dangerous; Bearclaw wolves might take it down without a second thought--he knew he would.

Shaking off this thought both mentally and physically, with a wag of his tail, Phocion nodded. "Poppy. From Easthollow? I'm Phocion, of Bearclaw Valley. And this is. . ." He trailed off, looking slowly round at the other female again. One ear rotated idly in her direction, waiting with no small anticipation for her response.