Gyrfalcon's Keep Among the Gyrs

Solveig's brow raised, and her lips pulled together as she was addressed in a manner that convinced her that this meeting would likely go over quite smoothly. While Solveig took her role quite seriously, she was never eager to chase away snarky, disrespectful wolves or trespassers unless she was in the mood for it. This wolf was a breath of fresh air; courteous, polite, and certainly well-spoken. It flattered Solveig to be addressed in such a fine way, and flamed the embers of her ego. 

She warmed, smiling. In spite of travelling on her own for a year, the woman certainly seemed well-kept. A mark of her ability to survive, Solveig thought. "Our pack is welcoming for weary travellers," She said, gesturing for the traveler to walk with her. There was a cool, glacier-fed lake nearby that might appeal to the newcomer. "Let us walk, and get to know one another. I am Solveig, I am called Hásæti, the...Head of the guard," She said, having to pause for a moment to find the right word for her rank in a way that the stranger might understand. "What is it, ah, your name?"