@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.

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.

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.

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.