How it goes

Enrico felt a faint stirring of unease when the girl said that she belonged to a nearby pack. This continent had been safe for him, because other than the southern tribal wolves who knew and cared nothing for northern wolves, and a small handful of areas with loners, this continent had been largely untouched, unexplored. It had been easy for a single wolf to be lost in the vastness. But if northern packs were moving south, it would become harder and harder to avoid notice.

Well. He would cross that bridge when it came.

"My... name... is Mask," he said instead, bowing to the young girl with a graceful courtly gesture. As he did he spotted something hidden among the grasses, and carefully plucked it so that when he rose from his bow it was to present it to her gallantly. A second small, overlooked yellow flower to match the one she had placed between her paws.

"Perhaps... home can being found in... the unexpected places," he assured her gravely in response to her sad words about her pack not feeling like home. "It is being not always where at your feet stand."