She had wandered long, alone. at some point, she had left this land and entered another. she knew not when she had crossed the invisible boundary, nor when she had crossed it yet again, only knowing that she was back in the place called Teekon. her paws led her to the place she had met the desperate woman and the male by the stream, and learned of the failing pack that inhabited the Glacier. how beautiful the place had been, and still it was.
she had come across to border, no scents. even the faintest of what might have been was faded, as she had expected and hoped. this, perhaps, could be a place to settle, if only for a short while. it fit her needs and wants almost perfectly, prey abundant as spring lent a slight warmth to the land. the sky above was lit in splendid colour, the sky afire in the settling dark, as if a final, desperate bid b day to not sink below the horizon as it always did.
she moved through the silence steadily, half searching for a place to spend the night, to rest her travel-worn form. ears were pricked, charcoal gaze searching, yet her stance was relaxed and her pace easy.
Hello!
She moved where she pleased and left when she didn't. She hunted for herself in this strange new world and slept under the stars when it wasn't too cold. Though life without a pack had always been said to be hard and lonely and harsh, she found she enjoyed it immensely. It was lonely at times, and it wasn't as easy as home. But there were downfalls to home as well, namely having to follow the rules of the
viejo verde. Even thinking of him made her feel sick, and angry again at her parents. Whenever she missed them, she would remind herself of what they had wanted her to do. The rain in her heart would turn to fire, then, and she would push away her homesick.
She was considering turning in for the night, and attempting to decide if she would use the den she'd found near here, or sleep under the stars. It was colder here than other places south, but the sky was so breathtaking. A movement caught her gaze and she turned to see another wolf, a female. Without another thought she changed her direction and head to meet the woman.
"Hola, Hello!" She sing-songed, smiling at the pale woman as she approached. "English, or Español amiga?" It was incredibly unlikely the woman would speak Spanish, but all the same she wanted to try. It made her happy to speak her own tongue, so she did not give up hope.
"I am Quetzalli, new to these lands, a viajera taking in the beauty. What is your name?" Her voice was accented, but easy enough to understand.
there came another, in the silence that came with near-darkness. she paused in her movement, looking to the other, stance unshifting. a remnant of the pack the once was, perhaps? but when the woman neared and the scent of her fur came without any others, Ahnah decided her too to be a lone wolf. Certainly happy was she, as she greeted the Inuit in a singsong voice, words entwined with those of a language she did not recognise. at her question, the woman answered " neither. English will do." and it would, for the woman had learned much more of the language in her travels.
she introduced herself to be Quetzalli, a name foreign and exotic to the woman. she found something about the woman's sheer happiness to be refreshing, after so many weeks of stoic travel, and thus her maw lifted in a small smile. "I am Ahnah" she introduced after a moment.
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Just gonna squeeze myself in here, heh.
Since finding the glacier and settling into its embrace, she had not left. It reminded her of home, of the life that she had left behind in order to chase after a dream. She did not regret her decision, not anymore, for she was alone no longer. With her was a distant relative, a wise elder whose existence lifted the yearling’s spirits, and two others—siblings—that spoke in the tongue of the Inuit; neither of them was of Inuit descent, however, which was something that she tried ever so desperately to look passed. Their origin no longer meant much to her, for they were able to exchange words with ease and understand one another in full. For this, she was glad, though she certainly would have preferred to have more Inuit at her side in exchange for the outsiders.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, Chulyin set out from her chosen resting place in order to give the glacier a final once over before turning in for the night. As she distanced herself from her previous location and neared the outskirts of the territory, the wind carried to her ears the sound of voices, neither of which belonging to wolves that she knew. With a narrowed gaze, she trudged across the land until the pair was spotted, appearing to be engaged in a conversation. Without even a moment of hesitation, she called out to them. “Kinauven?” she asked, volume rising above the wind. There was a certain edge to her voice, almost foreboding, as she regarded the both of them with thinly veiled confusion and curiosity.[/td][td valign=center] [/td][/tr][/table]
their conversation was brief, merely chatter, and soon the other was on her way. yet she was not alone for long, for shortly afterwards came another, decked in a coat pale as hers, perhaps, paler still. she watched as she approached and the other took their leave, vanishing shortly after. the woman trudged nearer, and as she did, the Iniut noticed how very similar, in some ways they appeared to be. a question gnawed at her mind, and the woman's words answered it quickly. the ghost of a smile danced at her muzzle, barely noticeable, as she replied in kind. "Tojotik Ahnah"
a moment later, she asked "KiKsek?" she had not missed the edge to the words, and though she would loathe to leave the place she had sought out again after so long, the question was phrased all the same.
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From three to two, their numbers dropped. The one woman departed, her name unspoken for the Inuk’s language was not understood, whilst the paler of the pair stayed behind. Infernos—bright but cold—locked with the woman’s own gaze, merciless with their attempts to burn right through her. The ever so faint smile that drew across her lips went unnoticed, but her voice did not; the language stood out, easily recognized. Chulyin’s ears perked with curiosity and her brows raised, whilst the rest of her body remained still. Surprised, she could only stare for a moment, the intensity of her gaze having decreased to the point where it almost seemed friendly—almost. Blinking, she refocused on the encounter and became attentive once again, skipping over her own introduction.
Before she could stop herself, the yearling shot out a harsh, “Auka.” There was a second, or perhaps even two, of silence that followed before her resolve lost traction and she took back her response. “ImmaKâ…” she murmured hesitantly. “Avaniven?” Although it was rare for southerners lacking the Inuit blood to speak any of the dialects, she needed a verbal confirmation of the woman’s lineage. Words alone, no matter how pleased she was to hear them, could not crack through her walls.
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