Lion Head Mesa Harry Potter style.

The wolf that approached appeared as foreign as this pack's practices. Towhee's eyes pinned on him, tracking his every movement as he came closer. She saw the moment when he barked at her. Her ears flicked as if acknowledging the sound, though they of course did no such thing.

This mindless, bodily fib served to remind her of something: she was no one and nothing now. That thought could've depressed her but, strangely, it didn't. No, it gave Towhee an idea. Her ears drew back a bit and she braced her white-streaked shoulders, assuming a respectfully neutral posture as the Akashingo guardian closed the distance.

"Hello, I'm..." She paused for only a heartbeat before continuing, "Finley Blackthorn. I'm curious about A—ahh, this place. And this pack. Do you have a few minutes to tell me about it?"