Wolf RPG

while @Blodreina is away with another scouting out the next potential location of diaspora to weather the coming season praimfaya dutifully stays away from the borders as she is instructed. she is entirely not happy about it — even grumbled a fair few times about 'what is the use of being wanheda if i can't even patrol' nevermind that she was not yet wanheda ( at least not recognized beyond blodreina ) — but she does not stray too close to them unhappiness aside. because she has a sneaking suspicion that her mother asked @Ingram to keep an eye on her when he wasn't busy tending to pionier duties ( or perhaps blodreina did not have to state her concern at all ) and partially, if praimfaya was being entirely honest, because her creepy run-in with the man calling himself 'sedulous' has her a bit unsettled. a fair ( and much needed ) reminder that despite being a fos goufa and the future wanheda that she is still a child.

used to taking small missions outside of diaspora at her whim to work on her diplomatic skills and to socialize her with wolves outside of diaskru leaves her feeling a bit restless. she wants to patrol. she wants to explore. she wants to fight. anything! instead, she settles for a heavy sigh and pushes a pebble into the lake's water, watching it drop into the water with a satisfying 'plop!' and sink to the lakebed.

she had only seen the girl's mother from a distance, but the child herself reminded Tahani of a child of the north, pale and fierce. with a gentle chuff, she approached, not wanting to startle the pup nor force her into an interaction she wanted no part of. the healer settled close by, looking at the ripples created by the stone's descent, admiring the beauty and clarity of the water.

do you swim? asked Tahani, glancing over at the girl. she extended a paw and placed it within the water, letting out a small sigh at the coolness of it. she realized, suddenly, that she had spoken in her own tongue, and grimaced. sorry. forgot. ah. . .you swim?

much more clunky, in the common language. but that was that. nice day to swim, she remarked, smiling. wish my body was up for it, went the unspoken addendum.

a gentle chuff draws praimfaya out of her self-pity party as her body changes from lounging carelessly to alert and she peers over her shoulder at the pale woman. a flick of praimfaya's ear is given as the woman asks her something — a question derived from the tone in which was used — in a language that was neither trig or common and praimfaya does not understand. perhaps, she considers, this is how others feel when i speak trig but the confusion she feels is not near enough to warrant her to stop. trig is her favored tongue, after all. it is a piece of her identity woven far too deeply within her makeup to be scrubbed out.

a small, albeit warm smile tugs at the corners of the wanheda's smile. you don't have to be sorry, she assures the older woman. i can, praimfaya replies thoughtfully. but i prefer land to water. she admits.

and then because she can't help herself asks, what language was that, that you spoke? though she is a body of her own people that does not mean she is not interested in the cultures of those around her.