He was right. The disembodied voice identified herself as Sahalie, and continued to ramble on aimlessly, the contents of her speech far less important than the fact that she carried on. "Yep, doing great!" he yelled when she paused for affirmation, but he was far too preoccupied with not falling to a gruesome death (or causing anybody else's) to offer much else. He hopped from ledge to ledge with soft grunts, and padded down the more slopey-bits, determined for this plan to work. Apart from her name, almost everything else went in one ear and out the other, the only thing he was focused on being the sound of her voice. He might have thought it quite a pretty voice if his mind wasn't full of the thought of innocent wolves crushed by the rocks he had so carelessly sent tumbling.
"... Swift River or something," she said, just as he felt he was getting closer, and suddenly there she was. "You!" he yipped, still stood on a level several yards above her, but now the large rock was no longer in his way and he could see what looked distinctly like a dark-pelted wolf! No blood in sight! Realising that his cry could have sounded kinda accusatory, he scrambled to recover, peering down the mountain's side as he tried to make himself as obvious as possible so she could spot him back. "I mean, hey! I see you!"