Johanna doesn't bother to answer. Instead, she leans back against the tree, and balances her axe across her knees. She doesn't have an answer. She's not about to divulge her history to a kid, no matter how ballsy the kid is.
"Packs are weird." She sighs, after a moment of silence. Her pack has been destroyed. There's no one really left for her. Johanna, always the thorn, always an unwanted after thought. She doesn't even think these things in self-pity, but more as a practicality. She's better off by herself. She can't trust even another wolf.