Lost Creek Hollow I'm nothing special.

Easthollow.

It wasn't a name she knew; she wondered if all the wolves living there were so friendly, and that helped her to ease the tension building in her body. Ibis lay back down in the clover, crushing some of the greenery in the process so that it didn't interfere with her view of the pale girl, and regarded her in a new light.

But --- you're to the west of us. Wouldn't that make you Westhollow, and us Easthollow? Oh, but, what's it like? A big forest like us, or something else? Ibis realized as she asked, she was actually quite curious. Can you tell me any stories about your home? I... I can tell you one too, if you want. We can trade. She didn't consider the fact that Ibis herself was new to these parts, so she wouldn't have much of a story to contribute.