Yep, you interpreted it just fine.
“America… That’s south, aye? Can’t say I’ve ever been near there.” Finn said, wracking her brain for anything she knew about that particular landmass. It was large, but apparently not as large as Canada, and that was about all she knew. It didn’t really surprise the she-wolf, her father had been xenophobiac enough about the packs in the neighbouring valleys, never mind canines that lived hundreds of miles away. And she couldn’t remember the last time she had a friendly conversation about one’s location of origin, so she wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with any wolves who came from the area.
Keeping just a few feet ahead of Mido, Finn leaped while she was behind his right shoulder, trying to land a blow that might stagger him. She found it was harder to fight without claws, to consciously make an effort to hold back the full strength of her blows. It was almost worrying how easy it was to truly fight in comparison to this practice match. Not that she was actually having any trouble. Far from it! Finn would rather turn teeth on herself than actually harm the young wolf who had so graciously offered to spar with her.
“I was from the west, British Columbia.” Finn said, “Though I’ve been travelling for years, so I haven’t really had a home since I left. Not for lack of trying, though!” She let out a hoarse bark of laughter, and though there was mirth there, it was only the humour brought about by distance and time. Being run out of packs and territories at every turn had been a disheartening thing at the time, she’d spent those years living day by day, never taking the time to paused and look about, too concerned about food and shelter and loneliness. Now, as she danced beneath the arching ceilings of the cave of Anathema, those worries she had felt seemed so trivial now.
“I got these scars from fighting, o’course!” Finn said with a wide grin. “Or being stupid. Or perhaps both. There is a very thin line between brave and foolhardy, and I may have crossed it occasionally in my youth.” Occasionally was probably an understatement. Okay, definitely an understatement. When she was young and her dander was up, Finn jumped from fight to fight like a squirrel swinging from branch to branch, more at home in a brawl than breathing. It was amazing that a little savage like she had been in the prime of her life had turned into such a polite and mannerly creature now. Not that she’d lost any of that spark. How did that saying go? ‘You could take a wolf out of the fight, but never the fight out of a wolf.’
“I could tell you about some, if you’re interested.” The she-wolf said, always ready with a story on her tongue. “My ear was the first thing to go. Courtesy of my eldest brother.” She rolled her eyes, “I’d called him out on his ugly mug one too many times and I suppose he just snapped.” Actually, Aegnus had simply torn the whole damn thing off in a fit of jealousy over their father’s praise. And old Cuhlain had simply laughed, and told young Finn that she’d let her guard down. “Shall I go on?”