Whitefish River Take You to the Grave, I'll Ghost

The silver woman waited patiently, though it wouldn't be long until a funny-looking fellow came along and offered a bow. Evelynn couldn't keep the short smile off her face at the display. It may be for pleasantries, but she could get used to people bowing at her feet. Hieronymous was quick to introduce himself with one mouthful of a name followed by what she assumed was a higher rank based on how fancy it sounded. So these wolves like the Saints did not follow traditional naming standards. Greetings. She kept her smile easy, only giving a nod of her head in return. She didn't bow to others, not to her charming Grandmaster and certainly not to a stranger.

I'm just a traveler, though as I'm sure you are aware winter is rapidly approaching. I was hoping you'd be willing to spare some details, Darling? What she learned from the first two packs fell almost on top of each other content-wise, perhaps whatever she learned here would be just regurgitated once more, but she could only hope to hear more. Maybe they would know of Ursus, they were just on the other side of the mountain range after all. What do you know of the packs around here?