Haunted Wood and the rest be sent to hell

The kid smelled odd, something that Memory only had the faintest recollection of, something far back in the instincts every wolf carried, the scent of something almost-wolf-but-not-quite. Something that irrationally set his nerves on edge. As he pulled himself from the snowbank the scent grew stronger and Memory's voice and posture changed. 
"Name's Memory. And yeah, we're in the same pack. You aren't going to be chasing much of anything if you're losing fights with trees." 
He grinned at the light-hearted jab, nit trying to hurt the kid, just giving him a hard time. He was too open, too eager- he wasn't watching the border either. 
"You need constant vigilance. Watch my ears. See how I'm standing? I'm talking to you, yes, but I'm still...my attention isn't off the border. My paws are set- See? If I need to move quickly, I can." He demonstrated, nodding down for the pup to copy him. 
The question came, inquiring about his family. 
"Dead probably. I don't know. It's a long story."