Wolf RPG

The panther had been enjoying his time with the moonsingers. He had, thus far, found something to appreciate about every fellow villager he met. Soon, however, he would have to depart to meet up with Valiant — and there was one more wolf in particular that he wanted to meet.

Silenthunter — that was what Ariadne had called her. The one who did not speak, but possessed great strength and skill. She had said good things about all her packmates, but there was something intriguing to him about this one in particular.

What was her name? Did she have one?

Since he'd met Tulugak, he followed the only female scent he didn't recognize. As he drew closer, he grew more and more puzzled — this wolf was younger even than Ariadne! He wondered if the cloud woman had forgotten someone in her roster, and, not wanting to sneak up on someone he didn't know, the panther gave a short, querying howl before he pressed onward.

jr explores the territory of her home; eyes and nose alert. slowly, she takes in the unfamiliar territory, aiming to learn it and it's borders where she will spend much of her time once she learned all it's internal secrets as thoroughly as possible. it passed the time effectively.

ghost rotates between taking flight, shadowing her from above or riding in his favored spot in the junction betwixt her shoulders.

at this moment, he chooses to ride between her shoulder blades.

which is good, she thinks, because he alerts her to the presence. he tugs with his good talon at her nape and she turns her head in his direction; golden gaze taking him in with muted curiosity.

She was dark-colored, and wearing a pale bird between her shoulders. Younger, as he'd already deduced, than Ariadne, but larger than her, too.

She hadn't answered him when he called, but the panther had already been warned that the huntress didn't speak. And he was sure now that he looked upon her that this was the girl that the cloud woman had spoken of. It was just that Dutch hadn't realized she was speaking about a girl at all.

He didn't know why she might be silent; he wondered if she spoke words that were different from the ones he and Ariadne knew, but either way, he offered a greeting of, "Hello," watching her keenly for a reaction to the words. Did she understand? "You have a friend," he added, unable to help commenting on the oddity.

internally, jr battles her prickly nature by default, knowing that there was no reason for it here, among her packmates.

she sniffs at the air, taking in his scent. moonsong, coupled as it was with his own unique scent.

his lips move to form a greeting that she has quickly come to understand. -hello.- she signs in ptero, giving her tail a cautious, but friendly wag. her scarred shoulder shifts, instinctively, when he gestures to ghost whose keen eyes are sharp, her eyes focused on the, to her, soundless words he forms.

jr offers a sage nod, unsure how to communicate his name.

-ghost.- she signs, believing it would not be understood. at least, not yet. teaching their leader would be a step in the right direction for being able to effectively communicate beyond simple body language and the few noises she could make ... providing any other packmates had a want to learn ptero.

They watched one another. Dutch thought she seemed a little unsure of him — not whether or not he could be trusted, but whether or not he was worth her time. That made him want to smile, but he dared not make himself look too frivolous until he saw the flick of her tail.

The panther took this as permission to come closer, and he did so with his head low and his own tail gentle whisking. Lamplike eyes tracked the motion of her paws as he drew near, and a spark of intrigue brightened them as he recognized that she meant it to communicate something to him. He wasn't sure quite what, but it didn't seem to be go away or leave me alone.

He mimed her first gesture back at her as if testing out a word in a new tongue.

"Does he help you hunt?" he asked of the bird.

he appeared interested enough, as she watches him draw nearer and mimic the gesture of 'hello' with his paws. a good sign, jr thinks. not entirely necessary, now that her lipreading skills were improving but it would help to make everything more efficient. for her, and her fellow pack mates: being able to communicate with her beyond simple answers she can give without ptero.

it solidifies within jr that she had made the right choice: agreeing to become apart of moonsong.

-ghost,- she signs her name for the falcon again, -cannot hunt.- she shakes her head 'no' and gives a soft twitch of her shoulder so ghost might take flight and her companion could see his mangled talon. her and ghosts' relationship was symbiotic. necessary for both of their survivals.

he was her ears and she, she was his protector. his provider.

and beyond that, a solid friendship had formed; tethering avian and canine as companions never far from one another.

Although he did not get the exact meaning, Dutch understood that she'd answered in the negative. The bird could not hunt — something confirmed by the state of the bird's talons when silenthunter showed him.

"I see," he said, and he almost began to wonder why she hadn't just eaten the bird — but then quickly warmed to the idea of a small, portable companion. It seemed nice; there was no further explanation necessary. "I have been told that you are a mighty hunter, yourself," he told her, moving on. "I hoped we might hunt together one day soon."

What he'd hoped was that their eyes would meet and they would fall madly in love — but he had not expected her to be so very young. It placed her, like Ariadne, well out of his preferred age bracket. The male put such things (and the swell of disappointment he'd rather not own up to) out of his mind. She was quite interesting enough without a romantic aspect!

"But, before that," he noted, coming to the realization as he spoke, "perhaps you could teach me some hunting words." He flapped a paw to say that he meant words spoken with paws, although he was sure she would know his meaning already.

jr wants to laugh at being called a mighty hunter; finding it both cute and misplaced that their leader thought she was good at hunting just because she happened to have a lucky day. out of respect for her pack mates, of whom were left to make their own assumptions about her for now, jr doesn't. but she does aim to correct this with a shake of her head and a signing of -no.- in ptero.

-i am a terrible hunter.- her paws form the words in ptero, wishing that things didn't take so much time to learn. to teach.

-i am a warrior.- or, she would be, one day. she wasn't even sure she liked hunting. it was a necessity, and one, in reality, that she had barely skated by with.

but she wouldn't turn down a possible future hunt, either; offering shortly thereafter, in perhaps a confusing manner, a soft nod.

jr slow blinks at him, squinting for a moment as she tries to make out his words.

her response is a bit delayed, and she offers a soft shake of her head when she finally puts the puzzle pieces together. -i teach you words.- she signs in ptero; determined not to categorize some over others.

Dutch laughed for her. As soon as he saw her confusion rather than confirmation, he knew that there had been some kind of misunderstanding. Perhaps on his part, but perhaps moreso on sweet Ariadne's.

"I see," he said again with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. It faded as he tried to parse her words; even going slowly, he could not magically understand her meaning. Another denial, he thought, and perhaps a correction. He did not know what he was meant to be corrected on, but he appeared contrite all the same. He'd learn eventually how she wanted to be seen by the world.

The shake of the girl's head seemed at odds with her gestures. He took this to mean that there would not be lessons, but that he was welcome to learn from her as well as he could all the same.

"That's alright," he told her, and then he was not sure why he had said this. But he went on: "I enjoy the hunt, but my heart is for song and stories. Perhaps one day you will tell me one."

He tipped his head back the way he'd come.

"There is fresh deer meat in our common place," he told her. "Are you hungry?"

jr is reminded that she finds it a bit frustrating: to teach ptero. it is easier, she knows, to simple stick to the most basic and primal mannerisms of communication. what little vocalization she could do, body language and the occasional nod or shake of her head when needed. but that felt too much like giving up and giving up was decidedly not in her nature.

probably, it is bullheadedness that ultimately drove her. but that went hand in hand well enough with determination.

he speaks of songs — a word that has no actual meaning to her — and stories and jr gives a curious tilt of her head. she picks out from lipreading that he had hopes of her telling a story. she considers this for a moment, ears fluttering back to half mast atop her skull for a few seconds before pushing forth; alert.

-perhaps.- she signs with a wily grin tugging at the edges of her lips.

she peers up at ghost as he circles and perches back upon her shoulders and considers his offer of meat. she, herself, is not hungry but she worries that ghost is and so she nods, gesturing with her muzzle for him to lead the way.

The girl's smile felt like a victory, and Dutch's grin widened in return.

"Maybe," he said, repeating the gesture she had made and waiting to see if he'd gotten that one right. And then, of course, the after you was clear enough to the panther. He set off, but at a pace that still placed them shoulder-to-shoulder.

"There are island packs far from here where they tell their stories through dance," he told her. He had not yet gleaned that she could not hear him. "They come sometimes to these lands. Most of them speak aloud, but some see no need to. But they are all of them full of joy and mischief.

he leads the way, though adjusting his pace so they are actually shoulder to shoulder.

jr allows her gaze to roam, still trying to learn the lay of the glacier's lands. it was different from the rise, from the vale, from the spear. each territory she had called home, for however brief, had been vastly different from the other.

not realizing he is still speaking to her, jr doesn't make an effort to lipread and, unfortunately, his words are heard by ghost, of whom was helpless to translate.

When the girl did not answer, Dutch began to puzzle it out. She could not hear him; her ears did not even twitch in his direction. To the panther, it seemed a profound disability. He could not imagine navigating the world without hearing. Moreover, he could not imagine how the girl's parents had kept her alive through her early childhood.

He waited until they'd come to the carcass to speak again, making the gesture she had earlier to capture her attention: -hello-

"You are not a hunter," he said, his tone thoughtful. She could not, of course, hear his tone. "You say that you are something else. I did not understand. A trader? A crafter? A scout?"

He spoke these roles slowly, waiting for her to light up at one.

"A warrior?" he guessed next.

jr's steps slow as they approach the carcass, golden gaze catching the ptero gesture of 'hello' as he mimics it. she offers him a proud beaming smile, surprised ( pleasantly so! ) that he's catching on quickly. she is focused on his lips as he asks her what she is, and she realizes he is naming through trades.

she offers small shakes of her head 'no' at the first three, offering a brisk -no-. signed in ptero.

a warrior.

at this, she nods and signs -yes.-

Ah! There it was. "Will you show me again?" he requested. "What warrior looks like. How do I say that I am a teller of tales?"

He was eager to know! For how could a teller tell his tales if he did not understand the tales that were told to him? And, too, there might be someone in the future who could not read his lips. He wanted to be able to speak to them, too. He wanted to be able to share words with every wolf he met, for it was his great calling in life to offer song and story and, perhaps, even wisdom.

But!

"Ah, I keep you from your meal!" he rebuked himself, stepping back to give silenthunter space to eat. "Next you must teach me, Dutch, close your lips and let me eat."

jr feels herself beaming at his eagerness, surprised that he is so willing to learn, though this is perhaps sated a bit when she picks out words of him being a 'teller of tales'. she understands, then, that it is because he was a wordsmith and of course he'd want to learn other ways to tell his tales!

the teller of tales.

though he offers her a name, dutch, she finds that she likes 'teller of tales' better to call him. as she has given many others nicknames and they, her.

silentnight had to be her personal favorite given to her, so far.

jr addresses first: -warrior.- she signs in ptero, slowing the gestures of her paws to communicate the word.

a soft, more breath than anything else, contemplative noise leaves her.

-dutch,- she signs his name in ptero and then points to him. -teller of tales.- she signs next; slowing the motions. sure, she could've simplified it to 'story teller' but she liked his flowery way of putting it better, she realized.

to show that she was not annoyed that he was so eager to learn ptero, she takes a small bite of the meal; willing to eat between bite-sized lessons.

He was a good student. The panther watched his teacher carefully, repeating each gesture as she made them while voicing the assumed translation. He was surprised when she had one for his own name, but that fell quickly to the wayside so that he could commit teller of tales to memory. The motion resonated with him; he wondered if this language could be incorporated into song and dance.

He practiced a little more while she ate, and at the next break in her meal, he had more questions ready.

"What is your name?" he asked her. He would be glad to have a unique identifier for her, even if it had no sound. As much as he enjoyed bestowing names upon his friends, he still wanted to respect the name they felt most belonged to them. "Cloudwoman called you Silenthunter," he added, wondering if this has yet been said to her face.

he asks for her name. she isn't sure how to communicate it when she didn't have a towhee to point out to him ( the bird or her mom ). a soft frown tugs at her lips but she signs her name all the same; each movement slow.

-towhee.- for the sake of simplicity she doesn't add 'junior'.

a soft cant of her head is given as dutch tells her that ariadne calls her 'silenthunter'. it reminds her of being called silentnight.

-i answer to anything.- she signs her admittance with a sheepish grin: it was hard to be mad at someone for making up a name for her when she did the same and had no way to correct them.

He was not yet well-versed enough to understand her answer, but the panther thought he caught a bit of chagrin on the girl's part. He wondered if it bothered her very much, to be different from others in this way. Was it all she had ever known, or had she lost her hearing somewhere along the way?

These were questions he would only ask when he felt sure he would understand her answers. For the moment, he focused on learning the basics of the language. His paws traced the shape of silenthunter's name once and then twice, and then he huffed as he found he'd forgotten the first half already.

"Show me one more time," he requested, this time determined to get it right.

The lesson went on like this for a little longer; long enough that Dutch found it prudent to return to his patrolling. Silenthunter was invited along, if she so wished it — but it would be a tacit companionship until he felt his due diligence was done.