The dead forest intrigued him because for all intents and purposes it looked like a place he should not be. His previous run-in with the pale female in the bramble-woods had not convinced him of the spiritual power of this region. He had no information on the no-go sites of the Wilds where not even wolves could protect themselves, though other than avoidance he had no true way to protect himself.

Spirits or not, the charred woods were an anomaly. They stood out like a black wound on the land, evidence of troubles beyond mortal ken. He could not tell how long ago the fires had occurred, especially not with the freezing rain pelting himself and the forest. 

A large bush, twisted and gnarled and old, remained standing despite its charred appearance. It almost looked like the bush would turn to ash the moment Yao touched it, but as he approached and fit himself under, it remained solid. It was a relief, small as it was, to feel the rain on his back lessen. He shivered, his teeth chattering. Freezing rain was worst than snow! 

He was at the very least, not alone in his misery. Another wolf, pointed with black and pale ash, was stalking through the burnt woods. Hey! Yao called to the wolf walking through the rain, looking drenched and miserable. Both of us might be able to fit under here,

The gray-point wolf took his offer. And why not? It was better than slowly freezing amongst the charred remains of the forest. Yao shuffled aside to give the wolf some room under the bush. The closeness between them did not daunt Yao — physical contact between the people of his clan and those around them was common and expected. He had long since learned that that custom was not shared among the other wolves. The stranger's reluctance to fully immerse himself under the bush was evidence enough. I am exploring this region, Yao said simply. And yourself?

Yao rested his head on his paws. He wasn't drying out by much, but he felt a lot drier than before. He hoped that he wouldn't have to stay under this bush for much longer — as welcoming as he was, a stranger was a stranger. There's prey here? I can't really imagine much wanted to live here, rain or not, he snorted. The skeletal nature of the woods was slightly unnerving, at least to him. Was the fire long ago?

Pole, Yao says with a wince as his bush-mate got a drop of water in his eye. Ah, good point. He wasn't much of an expert on hunting. The finer point of it — understanding the behavior of one's quarry — escaped him. And it seemed like it escaped his companion as well, slightly at least. He only responded with an understanding grunt. He'd have to learn the story from someone else it seemed. 

My name is Haoniyao, by the way. If they were going to be stuck like this for a while, they might as well get to know each other a little better.

He wished he knew the names that the locals had given the landmarks here. He gained a few as he travelled north from his homeland, but none of this area. A twang of panic overtook him as he realized that their conversation could get a whole lot deader if he lapsed in knowledge. At least in this line of convo. I came in from the south. I'm from a place called Kereenyaga. It's far south from here, Far, far south, where snow barely fell and the land rarely got cold.

He had seen a few lakes around this area. I haven't been up there yet. He admitted. He had only stared at the mountains northeast from here, never crossed it. He should, one of these days. Who knew what laid beyond the spires?

Even if I was good, this is nothing like home, he snorted. Sometimes we would get storms from the ocean, but this? He shivers. It's wet! The cold seeps into my bones. His bibi would hate it here.

Gone? Like dead? English euphemisms and metaphors had always confused him. He couldn't tell what exactly Mal meant. Either seemed correct. La. Barely. Sometimes in bad winters it will pile up, but it mostly dusts the ground. Not like here. He remembered huge gusts of wind blowing things to the ground, the sky turning black or yellow, but never had he seen something like this.

I'm sorry to hear that, he said, assuming that Mal's relationship with those mountain dwellers was amiable. It gets worse than this? Ai. He thought he would have to go farther north to see such things, where evergreens dominate and large white bears roamed. Maybe I'll stay just to see it, then. In all truths he preferred the warmth, but to have the experience of being in such a state was enough to drive him.

He poked his head out to glance at the sky. There was little sign of change in the gray of the clouds, though that didn't necessarily mean that the rain wouldn't stop. Your pack, is it a large one? He asked, curious about how packs worked so far north.

Yao had already resigned himself to the challenge, out of bravado and curiosity rather than common sense. They would never see such things at home. What an exotic spot he had found! I think I'll tough it out. he grinned, rising to the challenge brought to him by the local (though it was self-imposed). 

Though he had posed the question, he realized he couldn't put it in reference in his mind. Medium, large — how many exactly? He shook the questions away, latching on Mal's second question. Experience. Good stories, he sighed, tasting the glory so out of reach. Not many things going on at home.

Well, I guess I'm in the right place then. He had been vague about the specifics of what made this area weird / crazy / bizarre, but he figured that anything deserving of that title required some investigation. What's the weirdest thing you've seen here?

Earfquakes, the word didn't connect immediately in his mind. There weren't too many earthquakes where he was from, while he had a word for it, it was rarely used, except in myths. What are those?

He stared in awe and disgust at the story Mal spun. It was a good one to tell, though he'd embellish it a bit more with some flair (if he had been the one telling it). You haven't seen them since, ndyio? If there were such people around here he'd have to be careful.

The description helps him center the word in his mind. Ah! he exclaims, recognizing what Mal meant. Tetemeko. That's what we call it. He is struck, yet again, by how far away he was from home.

Yao thinks of the description that Mal provides, inhaling sharply to indicate that he was listening and absorbing what Mal had said. He had met no one that had matched that description, but who was to say? There could be many wolves in this land — and there were corners that he had not yet discovered.

He sneaks his head out from underneath the bramble bush. The rain has stopped, I think, Would his companion be so hasty to leave? He enjoyed the conversation, the first long one he had had since he arrived here.