The need to hunt became more imperatie to Yao's mind as he felt the chill growing in the air and saw the lovely, fire-like hues of some of the trees in the forest. Winter, and all of its perils, was coming. While they were full and healthy now, there was no telling what winter would bring. He, as a wolf from the southern reaches of the continent, had no real experience with the matter. If he had to admit it to someone, he was nervous as all hell. Perhaps scared.

He decided to catch something before he went to sleep, but found that his efforts were largely fruitless. He mostly ignored the smaller prey, knowing that he was too slow to successfully catch them. But that did not stop one wolf. He saw the pale fur in twilight and at first thought it was Simmik. But the build was wrong — this wolf, a male, was too slight and slender. He didn't know him. Yao approached, chuffing to announce his presence as he walked closer.You are new, he says, looking over the pale man.

He submitted. Yao felt strange about the act. He had become used to the different hierarchies here in the Wilds — so focused on dominance and authority. Where he was from, it came purely from age. Yao supposed that he was older than the pale wolf, but didn't feel that it was that large of a gap. Haoniyao, he said. Yao is fine, he smiled gently, knowing that his name was rather long. How long have you been here? he wondered how many other new folks were here.

He counted the number of moons he had seen pass in his head. Six? he said, wondering if he had counted correctly. Lenny would perhaps know. Ah, thank you. he was flustered by it. It meant a lot to hear that, especially from a newcomer. He hoped that he did, even with his foreign accent and ways. It was hard fitting in, so far from home, but the wolves here have been welcoming.

He wanted to know about his home. Yao smiled. He liked to talk about them, luckily enough. It helped and hurt his nostalgia, but he wanted to keep them close to his mind. Mm, far sana south. All the way to another ocean shore. There are many tribes there. We all speak Kiswahili there. Very different from here. My tribe is called Kereenyaga, for the mountain that we lived by. My clan...we had another name once, but after my family members proved themselves in battle against another tribe, and our chief named us Mwashinga. You are courageous. He speaks reverently, thinking of his home and all the stories he was told by his family growing up. His babu told them best. He told all stories the best. My name means born during a fight. My mama, she gave birth to my siblings and I when we were being attacked. His mother never let him forget that. No one did, especially when he was christened with the name.