Wolf RPG

He did not like mountains.

None of the Dotharan did, it was a far cry from the flat, open plains that the wolves had longed and searched for for months. But, Rakharo had commanded that they have a clear view of their surroundings, the packs around, the locations, where herbs and alternate sources of food could be found. And Zoratto did just that, racing from one side of the flatlands to the other, when he was not serving his Khaleesi.

They were nearly surrounded by mountains. Mountains to the north, the east, the west, but none to the south, thank the Rhoa. He approached one of these towering spirals, crossing the river and past a hot spring. It was nearly alone on this mountain range, proud and strong...and claimed.

The young wolf's tail twitched at the strong smell of wolf piss in a straight line a few miles from the mountain's base. He made a sound of disgust. What kind of wolf lived on mountains? It looked hard to climb, nearly covered in snow at its peak, and it was almost summer. He sniffed along the border, noting how fresh it was. They took great pains to keep it strong, these wolves. 

FitzDutiful was on his way back from his encounter at the Redhawk Caldera borders. It was a hard thing to admit that he might never see his friends again but that was definitely how it seemed. Mindful that something must have occurred to cause that, he immediately started out on an outer-border patrol of his pack lands. They did the outer borders less frequently than the inner, purely because they weren't too concerned about those wolves that just passed through.

As he began his trails he came across the scent of a lone wolf, not thinking anything of it he carried on until the male came into sight. He was sniffing at the border of the mountain territory. On high alert, FitzDutiful headed on an intercept course, speaking as soon as he was within hearing distance without shouting.

"Need something from us?" He doubted this lone wolf was here to join, not many were it seemed.

He weighed his options for a moment, wondering how far around the mountain the pack had laid claim. The young Dotharan paced slightly, pausing when a pale wolf approached. His own pale eyes fixed on the wolf warily, ready to fight if he was unwelcome. But the wolf's body language spoke nothing of that. Instead, it seemed...friendly. That was strange.

His head cocked slightly to the side. He was still foreign to the language of this land, but he had picked up a few things from the coyote slaves. "No.....n-no..." He stuttered, angry at his own inability to speak correctly.

As FitzDutiful approached the scent of pack (potential pack?) became present. Maybe a lone wolf that had just left a pack, or a lone wolf in a very new pack. Either way there was some scent of family upon the male. He seemed to be struggling with his words but FitzDutiful was patient, avoiding the desire to finish the stranger's sentence for him.

"If you don't want anything why are you here?" he asked. His voice was stern but not unfriendly. The tone indicated, in any language, that he wanted an answer and the answer had better be good. FitzDutiful wasn't an unfriendly wolf by any means but that situation with the Caldera had really got his mind twirling and he wasn't in the mood to deal with unknown situations. Instead he wanted to be back with his mate, talking over what had just occurred.

Zoratto hated the feeling of stumbling over words, trying to recall certain ones as fast as possible as to not seem a fool. That had already failed, in his eyes. Trying to understand what the wolf spoke was hard as well; he only managed to recognize two: 'why' and 'here', which was enough for him to get the jist of it.

He wondered if this wolf would help him in learning this tongue. The Ezok knew that saying "I want information on your pack" was uncalled for, even if he knew the words. Learning the tongue of the Rhaesh Thaan wolves was what he needed if he was going to explore and learn about this place. "Need...want...know wolf's tongue." He hoped it was enough words for the wolf to understand.

"Ah" The wolf's struggle to speak made more sense and FitzDutiful instantly relaxed and sat down. This wasn't a hostile encounter, it was possible that his greeting at the borders of RHC had soured his feelings in a negative way.

"My name FitzDutiful" he said, pronouncing each of his words carefully and placing his right forefoot on his chest. "Your name?" he asked, pointing the same paw at the wolf in front of him. He was a distance away that the gesture couldn't be misinterpreted as a swipe, there was no way he could connect with this paw from this distance. Even though he was here to learn the language it didn't mean that things couldn't escalate quickly.

Name. He knew that word, at least. The wolf had a strange name. FitzDutiful. He had never heard of something like that, and it was weird that his name did not end in "o". Every Dotharan male's name ended with "o", why not here? He would have to get used to it, for the wolves here might have even stranger names than his.

His brow furrowed as he absorbed the information. My name, referred to the wolf's self. Your name referred to him. Ah, pronouns. "Zoratto. My name Zoratto." He said, trying not to flush with heat in embarrassment. Thank the Rhoa that none of the others could see he being taught by some Rhaesh Thaan wolf like a child! 

It appeared as though the pointing or the slow speaking had done its job. FitzDutiful hadn't even taught his children in this manner so it was a very odd situation to be in. The fur surrounding the wolf, Zoratto, covered any heat flush that would have been visible but FitzDutiful imagined that the situation was just as awkward for him. Hopefully, being around the common tongue would help him pick it up sooner or later.

FitzDutiful hadn't met the leaders of the spine by this point, for had he then this conversation would have turned sour very quickly. As it was, all FitzDutiful wanted now was to know where this wolf came from - was there more of them? "This place Silvertip Mountain. Your place?"

Was it enough to help the wolf tell him the name of his pack at least?

Silvertip Mountain. Well it certainly fit the name. He looked up to the mountain, committing that peak to memory. It was close to the Plains, and was therefore an important landmark for the pack to know. "Feetz pack name Seelvertip Moundtan?" He enunciated the words, the words too slippery on his tongue. He missed the harsh tones of his tongue rather than this soft one. "Place Ramasar Hoshor."  He did not know the name for plains, but used the Dotharan word instead. "Pack no called pack, we call khalas." He wondered if it mattered to the wolf, or the others what they were officially called. He didn't think so, at least, but he liked being politically correct.

It appeared as though the two males weren't having any trouble in communicating - which was good - even if the conversation was in dribs and drabs. It certainly wasn't the most elegant of conversations for FitzDutiful but it was a challenge, and he liked challenges. Zoratto seemed be understanding a bit more than FitzDutiful gave him credit for, and he hoped that the wolf didn't feel too babied by FitzDutiful's words. It was hard to know how to talk to someone who struggled with your language.

"Yes, that's right." he said, to the question that Zoratto posed, though the name of the pack threw him a loop, "Ramasar Hoshor?" he queried, wondering there that was. He thought of all the names that sounded similar. "Oh! Hoshor Plains?" It seemed as though they had their own name for the land, which made sense since they didn't call themselves a pack either. He didn't question that, though. Who cared what they called themselves in the end?

He twitched at the translation. He wondered how the wolf could translate it so quickly. Maybe he met another one of their wolves before, one that spoke this land's language better. "Sek.". He had no choice but to accept this wolf's translation, since it was the only one he had. If he found another one that was correct, he would replace the word.

"Hoshor Plains." The top of the mouth sound was hard to correctly reproduce at the moment for Zoratto, but he could practice couldn't he? "Sek. Sound right."

If it hadn't been for the word "Hoshor" then no translation would have taken place and FitzDutiful would have been none the wiser as to where this newcomer lived. It was a strange situation, but the wolf seemed to agree with that translation answering with a "Sek". "Sek?" FitzDutiful queried, taking the opportunity to learn on himself, too. "Does Sek mean yes?" he asked, wondering if the question would get answered or if it was too detailed. It had been used twice by the male in front of him, Zoratto, in a sentence where his mind had automatically replaced it with the word "yes".

FitzDutiful was a naturally gifted thinking, finding the mental attributes easier than the physical and social ones, but he had never come across different languages before. It was an interesting challenge, trying to deduce what someone meant by their different words; though he didn't have a clue when he would ever need to know this language.

It seemed as though the male wasn't entirely sure what he'd said for he wandered off. FitzDutiful carried on his wander of the borders before hunting for the rest of the day.