Sleeping Dragon ash in the vale

It wasn’t long before the coal-spattered female realized that she had spoken in a tongue that was not common for the coywolf. She corrected herself, apologizing for the mishap and mentioning that there were times she could forget to speak in the appropriate language. Glu did little to ease her mind about it, but instead peered at her curiously, hardly phased by the easy transition that had been made to a language that he could more easily understand. Her words were still heavily accented, but he could make out the sentences with ease.
 
The woman went on to translate her previous statement – the one that had gone unheard due to a barrier in tongues. The coywolf nodded his head in understanding and flicked his tail upward. “I’m Gluskap,” he then introduced with a quick nod and a swivel of his ears. The names of the others had all seemed to derive from a similar location, but the man did not often think strongly enough to inquire. If they hailed from the same land, perhaps their ties were deeper than he had known and he was merely a stranger on their terrain.
 
The newly met Lagertha transitioned quickly enough into inquiring about the herbs that he was toting about. This was a subject that he could speak on for hours. Glancing down to his paws at the array of foliage that he had collected, the cadaverous coywolf wondered how he would best explain. “Marigold, birch leaves, and thyme,” he answered her with the names of what he had collected. “I’m keeping my stock full,” the coywolf then added with a quick wink and a nod.