Herbalists' Cache Pingaluk

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@Snake

Whilst the filth of the wetlands had been shed, the stench had not. Unsurprisingly, she’d been successful with ridding her pelt of any unsightly stains, leaving her appearance just as pristine as it’d been up north. Still, she could smell the appalling aroma of the territory, which was rather distressing. Never before had she encountered such an unpleasant patch of land, for wetlands such as Otatso simply did not exist in the area whence she’d originated. The mountains had welcomed her into their arms the second after her newborn form entered the world, and then it’d been a forest protecting her. With such little experience under her belt, she could do little more than hope that the scent would fade. In the meantime, she had every intention of distancing herself from the terrible terrain.

Chulyin hadn’t been forced to wander very far prior to finding herself beneath the cover of a forest. Surrounded by something that was, to a certain extent, familiar to her, the yearling felt more at ease; the young Apaata was not a fool, however, and so she remained alert despite however much comfort she might have found in the forest. It was not her home, nor did it harbour any wolves that she might know—to her knowledge, that is—and so it was not to gain the entirety of her trust. Shoving her ears forward, the Inuk’s muscles tensed and she began moving through the woods, assessing every visible inch of it after each of her steps.

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A crazed laugh pulled from his diaphragm, echoing and drifting through the air. The figure who produced the laugh didn't seem to possess a care in the world. In fact, it was as if nothing in particular was happening at all, as though he were in his own little world. He slunk along the area, massive figure pushing his way easily through anything that might have stood in his way. It wasn't until he happened across a woman that he had stopped. Excitement seemed to course through his body as he slunk closer and narrow jaws parted to release lilting words. "What'ssss thisss, what'sss thisss? A new friend?"  He weaved in circles around her, green eyes wide and unblinking, a crooked toothy grin impossibly wide upon his maw. He cackled, a rather unnerving sound that erupted from deep within his throat.

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Each step taken was followed-up with yet another, few pauses finding the time to settle in between her movements. Without a true destination in mind, there had been no reason for her to cease all motions entirely—for just as swiftly as the thought had entered her mind, however, a reason appeared. The lingering echoes of his riotous cackling brought her to a dead stop, succeeded by the raising of her nose against the incoming breeze; the winds lacked the scent of the voice’s owner, for they blew down from the north. Naught more than a second of consideration was taken prior to the pivoting of her body, eager to see the approaching creature. She knew not what to expect, for the beasts that dwelt within the southern regions of the world were unknown to her. Nevertheless, the girl stood her ground, head held high with pride whilst her muscles refused to relax. She was, undoubtedly, ready to spring into action at any given time, though the belief that she might be forced to do so began to fade after spotting the man.

Passed the male’s lips there’d slipped a language that she was not entirely unfamiliar with—other members of her family spoke it, she believed—but was enough so that she could neither understand nor repeat the words back to him. Frowning, Chulyin knew herself to have no options other than to rely on a more physical way of speaking. Normally, she would not have minded having to do so, but the stranger was a peculiar case. As he circled her he wore a grin and laughed, the sound just as coarse as his choice of verbal languages. She knew not what it was that he had said, and was just as oblivious as to his thoughts, and yet, she hadn’t turned away. The young Apaata watched him, observing each and every step, her mouth having yet to open. With a quick nod of her head towards the man, she passed the ball over into his court, then awaited his next move to decide on how she might need to act towards him.

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Snake ceased his circling, stilted onyx limbs coming to a halt and narrow muzzle thrusted towards the woman. She had yet to speak, and the male found himself slightly confused, if not curious. However, that crazed grin never faltered, never fell from his maw. "Quiet, are we? Or perhapsss ssshe cannot ssspeak?" Unblinking eyes bore into her, inspecting the way she held herself and the nod he was given. It was as if she couldn't understand him, or was simply mute. He had yet to figure that much out. 

His own body was relaxed, and he almost felt as though he should simply sit down. He did not. The man resumed his circling, head tilted almost unnatural to the right and massive body twisting and turning, spine curving gracefully beneath dark flesh. His eyes remained forever trained on her, whether or not she returned his gaze was up to her. Baritone words slipped from black lips. "Do you have a name, darling?" He found himself curious if she was able to actually understand him, and decided to try and bring up conversation once more. He crept closer, closer, closer to the woman, muzzle always turned in her direction. Onyx tongue slid out of the depths of his mouth, curling over his maw and dropping saliva onto the ground before retreating back inside.

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As the male came to a stop, her eyes sought out his own. Whilst her gaze was, at first, hardened and without any true emotions, it had soon been filled with confusion after he spoke. Never would the rest of her body betray the fact that she was unable to understand him, but her eyes had. It would likely go unnoticed by those that were either dimwitted or not paying close enough attention, though her own lack of a realization was due to neither of those options; so focused had she been on watching the man that her expression had started to respond to her unconscious mind. Had she known of just how deeply the uncertainty ran throughout her gaze, the young Inuk would have corrected herself within a moment’s notice. Yet, she was unaware and showed no signs of recollecting herself in full.

The circling of her body resumed, a decision of the dark one’s that she wasn’t the least bit pleased by. Again, he spoke, only this time she’d allowed for her head to tilt ever so slightly, silently questioning him. The gesture was but a small one, having arrived and then been snatched away in a blink’s worth of time, the fact that her space was lessening having been noticed. After straightening herself out, the girl brought her tail up so that it was in-line with her back, whilst her body turned and her eyes raged on like a forest fire. “Aullak,” snapped the yearling, her anger apparent. For now, she hadn’t moved towards the man, able to maintain some degree of control over herself so that she wouldn’t do anything too reckless.

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His gaze never left hers, his own eyes watching, searching. He had gotten rather uncomfortably close by now, and if she did not move away by now he would thrust his muzzle forwards so that it barely graced the tresses of her cheek. Once again, his circling had stopped. He had not missed the tilt of her head, and his own jaws parted to speak again, when the woman finally opened her mouth.

A word left her chords, and Snake found that he was correct in thinking that she couldn't understand him. And now he also found himself not understanding her, and in all honesty it pissed him off to no end. He decided if he could not play games with her using words, he would have to use other means of communication.

The girl had raised her tail and anger flashed in her eyes, and oh how excited Snake was. One, two, three [albeit small] steps backwards. Snake's ears were shoved forwards, his maw cracked wide in yet another toothy grin as he spoke again. "Oho, ssshe'ss a feisssty one!" His tone was lilting, mocking and his tail flicked back and forth, brushing the edges of his hocks. He bobbed his head down to gaze into her eyes, his own green eyes wide, unblinking, unnerving. A childish giggle, of all things, erupted from his throat. 

Despite himself, he found himself rather frustrated at the fact that he couldn't screw around with her head using his words, get under her skin, drive her mad. Without his voice he was merely a big black wolf, intimidating, no less, but silenced.

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Of all the potential scenarios that she’d considered during her journey down from the north, meeting a wolf as frustrating as the male had—surprisingly—not crossed her mind. Chulyin was the sort that prided herself on just how patient she could be, for allowing the time to slink by without being bothered was a necessary part of her life; always had she been fascinated with the hunt, which, of course, required each individual to be willing and able to wait for long periods of time. Yet, in spite of even that, she’d found herself capable of mustering up naught for the stranger. Perhaps it was the way in which he presented himself, or maybe she was simply taking out on him her frustrations over being in a new and unfamiliar region. No matter the cause behind her thoughts, they remained the same: the man was not to be trusted or liked. Even his response to her outburst had supported the decision to dislike him, his reaction having not been the slightest appropriate. Sure, he had moved away—a motion that had nearly made her believe that they shared a tongue, right before the more reasonable side of her brain presented an alternative—but he’d not distanced himself entirely. No, he’d taken only a few steps back, none of which reflected the true length of his stride.

There existed between them no verbal bridges, nothing to be crossed so that they might better understand one another. He was not of Inuit descent, and she had never taken the time out of her days to learn the English language—and why would she? Growing up, the yearling had never envisioned herself going off on a journey away from home, chasing after an image that she’d made up within her own mind. Even though she had first learned of her relative’s travels at a young age, the thought of following after him hadn’t ever presented herself until shortly before her departure several months back. Had she been aware of what the future held in store for her back then, perhaps she would have learned the language just as several of her siblings had done, and all for the purpose of putting mongrels such as the ebony man back in his place. To keep herself from being mocked and spoken of in a language that she could not understand, just as she wished to do in the present. The past could not be altered, though, which she both knew and, at times, resented. Besides, she was intelligent enough to pick up on tones, at the very least; the skill had been developed enough that she could feel her skin prickling beneath her fur at the mere sound of the outsider’s voice.

With a step towards him taken, Chulyin peered at the nameless wolf without even an ounce of fondness. “Aulitjak, kulângi,” commanded the yearling, despite her knowing that he would not understand. Although he could not comprehend her words, she hoped him to be wise enough to at least pick up on her tone, and realize that she had since grown tired of his eccentric behavior.

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He knew he'd pissed the girl off, and it only excited him even more. He slunk forwards again, tail waving back and forth and his head bobbing. That crooked grin never faltered, and his green eyes widened even more, flashing with excitement. "Sssshall we play a game, darling?" He feigned a pounce in her direction, lunging forwards before retreating back again, never touching her, and never planning to. He giggled, weaving back and forth and inching closer once again. He did not understand the words she had spoken to him earlier, but he guessed she was not happy with him. He loved it.

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After observing the male and his reactions, Chulyin concluded that he was not the brightest—that, or he was the sort that always sought out trouble. No matter the reason for his antics, she wasn’t the least bit amused. Then as he spoke, the words nothing more as meaningless sounds, her jaw set, the frustration felt rather apparent. Once he’d lunged, the entire rest of her body tensed whilst her lips were pulled back in a silent snarl, warning the wolf away. Quickly had the Inuk realized that he’d not intended to actually do her harm, for he’d moved away and laughed some more. With a shake of her head, she declared, “Taima.” The stranger could continue to play his games all he wanted, but she would not take part in them for even a second longer.

A single step forward was taken before she stopped and looked towards the male, gaze narrowed. “Malitlanak,” ordered the yearling, voice as low as her cords would allow. Thereafter, she turned back to face the direction she’d originally been traveling in and started walking, determined to rid herself of the southerner.

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