Snowforest Taiga you dangle on the leash of your own longing

@Ephraim. She's somewhere between the grotto, rise, plains, and moraine!

Everyone seems busy with Uncle Sia these days. At least, mama and Aunt Shiv. Currituck only feels in the way even though Tahani has her help when and what she can but she keeps her distance from the resting man. She’s never seen him so worn down and tired, a man that matched giants and led them all the way to this place.
 
All the time she has alone lately leaves her to her thoughts and after discovering a whole other life she could have had, a whole other woman that gave birth to her and chose to give her away. Tahani told her what had happened, as much as she knows, but she isn’t satisfied enough. She has more questions that haven’t been given the chance to ask since she is busy tending to her brother so Currituck begins to wander once more, trying to sort through what she’s supposed to do now.
 
Absently, she continues to wander through the borders of home and out into the open. She doesn’t know where she’s going but she just… goes, at least until her legs start to get tired.

It wasn't often that Ephraim strayed from the group, but today, he took the opportunity to range a little farther and explore on his own. They weren't going to be in this region forever. There was more to see than he would ever manage to before they left, but he wanted to map as much of it as he could in his head before they moved on. Though he wasn't a scout and didn't aspire to be, despite respecting Etoille greatly for his job, there was a tactical advantage in knowing one's surroundings. The more Ephraim saw, the more he would remember if ever he was back here, and the better situated he would be.

That was how he stumbled upon Currituck who, unbeknownst to either of them, had a life and heritage not unlike his own. The means of their separation from their real families was quite different but the end result was the same: hybrids living among the strong wolves who had taken them in and doing their best to fit in, even if they might always be a little different. Unlike Currituck, Ephraim was at ease with his situation and rarely thought about his true family, who were no more family to him than the rocks and sky. Then again, he hadn't just learned of them.

She was just a face on the taiga to him at present, though, so there was no commonality between them besides the fact they were both young and alone. That she was a similar age intrigued Ephraim, but being naturally shy and uncertain, he couldn't compel himself to approach her outright; instead he began a sort of sideways shuffle as though he meant to go around her, with his head slung low and his eyes dancing indirectly over her figure. But although his manner was nervous and flighty, his erect ears and slowly swaying tail betrayed his curiosity.

She’s lost in thought long enough without interruption that she’s lived an entire life in her head. Her mother—Ocracoke—had been the one to raise her, to teach her everything Tahani and her siblings had, and they lived somewhere warm where she wasn’t forced to go somewhere else so she felt comfortable. Currituck doesn’t know where they came from, since Tahani had been too busy to answer any more questions lately, but surely she’ll be able to find it. She came from there, she can find her way back.
 
When another wolf comes into her peripheral, it takes her several seconds to actually register. She jerks in surprise, stumbling to one side and feeling her heart fling itself into her chest. Wide, olive eyes stare at the stranger for a moment before she settles her nerves and slows to a stop.
 
The other wolf has a wide berth between them and her head tilts, leaning out to sniff the air. He looks young, too, and he isn’t big and white and burly like she’s used to. Instead, he seems more… her size. And shape. And color. They don’t share a similar pattern really but he certainly sticks out against the snow, like she does, and her jaw shifts into a grin. She bounces a few steps forward, eager to get to know the stranger. The way he looks over, the wag of his tail, tells her he’s much nicer than the last stranger she met and so she musters up as much confidence as she can to continue closing the distance.

There was a moment where, for whatever ridiculous reason his brain conjured, Ephraim thought that Currituck was going to charge him. He watched her form jolt and then careen sideways, and his first instinct was to flinch and ready himself for impact. His brain went quickly through all the facts he could gather in an instant: they were about the same size but he had his training. Wouldn't hurt that much. Hell, he might even be able to keep his feet. His shift was fluid from hours of practice as he pulled one leg back, brandishing his other shoulder to absorb the brunt of Currituck's hit while his snout ducked to guard his neck...

Except she never hit him. She never really even moved. She righted herself and that was all. Poor Ephraim in all his tense excitement and nervousness had overestimated her movement, sensing it as hostile when really, she was just surprised. And there he was, standing there ready to defend himself, looking like a total moron, while she did nothing more than peer at him across the distance. Stupid, he chided himself, flattening his ears when Currituck's lips pulled into a grin.

He was slow to straighten as she bounced toward him, but there was nothing in her body language to suggest she was tricking him in any way, and his tail picked up its slow wag again. His throat felt dry—why was he always like this around new people? He had no trouble with his comrades, but throw a stranger in front of him, and it was like the air refused to stay in his lungs. He had been so nervous about the other Goufas when he joined Drageda too, and it seemed he hadn't really grown out of that. Formality sometimes helped, he found... but there was no cause for it here.

By the time he mustered up the nerve to breathe a bashful, "hi," Currituck had already closed the distance while his own four feet remained firmly stuck to the ground.

Her steps start to slow when he becomes defensive, suddenly uncertain about what’s going on. Currituck looks to either side of her and then behind the stranger and doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No one else is in the immediate area and she can’t note anyone beyond with any intention of hurting either one of them. Did he think she was going to hurt him? Her brows knit together but she doesn’t say anything of it as he starts to relax and, even quietly, offers a greeting.
 
Okay. Good.
 
Currituck grins, wide, and wags her tail so much her butt wiggles a little bit.
 
“Hey!” she chirps. “I’m Currituck! Who are you?” she says without realizing that wolves outside her homeland don’t speak the same.

She was so much more outgoing than he was, or at least she seemed to be. Maybe that was because he'd spent his life traveling. Were those who spent more time with family and less time inside their own heads more prone to being extroverts? That made sense to Ephraim, for what sense he could make of it at his age, but surely it was more than that. Maybe because she was a girl? Raleska had been just as sheltered as he but he remembered her as very outgoing. He couldn't remember her face, could barely recall her name, but he remembered the demanding way she'd spoken, her insistence on forcing him into adventures with her when they were little. But maybe she was different now.

Currituck wasn't demanding like Raleska had been, or at least her first impression wasn't. She seemed happy, happier than anyone Ephraim had been around in a very long time. Trigeda had celebrated their victory in the war, but it wasn't with the carefree waggle of a tail and a sunny grin. It was with a warriors' resolute, if rowdy, war cry. Ephraim was capable of moments of silly boyishness, but now it seemed all of that had fled, leaving him shy and aloof. His ears stayed tipped back until she spoke in a spidery language unlike he had ever heard, turning his expression quizzical.

"What did you say?" he asked, this time in Trigedasleng in case she knew that tongue too. The words of Drageda were short and stunted, a little like the common tongue if he listened closely enough, but too different to make out with ease. Currituck's tongue was as unlike it as the roaring of beasts or the crashing of waves on the shore. The words were long and flowed together, comprised of harsh and repetitive sounds. "I'm Ephraim," he tried quietly in a language he hoped they might have in common.

Sorry for the wait!

He says something she doesn’t understand and she stares blankly. She hasn’t been exposed to other languages other than common and those of the snow wolves. She knew some wolves didn’t know their language but she never considered there were more. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, not certain what he’s said but he does introduce himself and that much she can understand.
 
“I’m Currituck,” she repeats, flicking her tail. “I don’t know what you said.” Hopefully, they have some sort of common ground and aren’t simply stuck not understanding one another.

There. It seemed the both of them understood the common language; Currituck slipped into it and Ephraim let go a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Like her, he'd worried that they wouldn't find any commonality, for in spite of his nerves and the shyness fluttering around him when faced with a peer his own age, he could use a friend. One that wasn't the commander or one of her guards. A friend he could talk about silly things with, drop his guard around, and not worry too much about making an impression.

That was a long way off even if this interaction went anywhere, though, and he swept it from his mind. I didn't understand what you said either, he quietly admitted, then asked, what language was it? Mine was Trigedasleng, from Drageda.

After determining they could not understand each other, she develops a while new desire to learn. She’d only been exposed to the two languages—something she often mixes up without thinking about it—but a whole new one now presents itself. Maybe he could teach her? Unaware that language-learning is a long process, she’s certain she can pick it up if she just knows a few words! 

”Where is that?” she questions softly. ”I don’t know what it’s called but the big snow wolves talk it so, I don’t know. Snow Language?” Currituck shrugs a bit. She’s never really had to refer to the differences. ”Can you teach me your words?”

Snow Language. Nope, didn't ring any bells. Ephraim didn't know who the big snow wolves were, but the mere mention intrigued him. If he had to describe Drageda's wolves, he would call them big warrior wolves; he was certain he and Currituck were speaking of different peoples and he couldn't help wondering what made them snow wolves, or what their culture was like. Was it similar to Drageda's since they were also large? For some reason he couldn't imagine large wolves being anything but warriors, just as he couldn't imagine a pack of smaller wolves being effective at war.

He had a lot to learn about skill versus size and what motivated other wolves; it wasn't always so black and white as fighter or non-fighter.

On the cliffs by the sea, he said, gesturing in a vague direction despite not being sure exactly where the cliffs were. Thuringwethil was leading them. In truth he had no idea where they were or where they were going. Why are they called big snow wolves? Is that their pack name? And whether she could explain it or not, he would bob his head as if he understood completely, if only to mask how little he did know.

Hei means hi, he said, then added, My name is Ephraim. Pause. That means 'my name is Ephraim'.

The direction causes her head to tilt. She doesn’t know much about the sea or really where he’s talking about but she nods anyway, like she knows. Ah, yes. The cliffs by the sea! A smile presses upon her features, loosening free any remaining anxiety (not that there was too much to begin with).
 
“No, no, my pack is Ikkantatuk,” she explains with a swish of her tail. “I call them snow wolves because they’re big and white and… live in the snowy areas. It’s very cold there,” she adds. She doesn’t like it much but she needs her family, right?
 
When he mentions that hey means hi she wants to laugh and tell him of course it does but! if they’re struggling with language, maybe he doesn’t know. She doesn’t add anything about it and instead, smiles, and offers, “My name is Currituck.” Is it correct? Maybe, maybe not, but she enjoys the new words and tucks them away the next time she meets a wolf like this again.

Ickitatuck, he tried and failed to mentally repeat. What a handful of a name. If he knew the language of the snow wolves, it would come easily to his tongue, but as a Dragedakru wolf, it was much too long and elegantly composed for his tongue. He nodded instead, and tried to wrack his brain to think if he knew any snow wolves himself. There had maybe been a few large white wolves in Trigeda, but none really came to mind. I don't know any snow wolves, I don't think, he admitted, then observed, but you're not big and white. They're your family though?

Currituck couldn't possibly be one of these snow wolves, he reasoned, though she lived with them. Did that mean that like him, she was a bit of an outsider making her home among wolves she could never live up to? That was too negative a thought for him to voice aloud, but it allowed him to feel a growing kinship with the young she-wolf.

That's right, he said kindly, even though the way she'd said the words had been a little wrong. It was difficult to hear a word for the first time and reproduce it flawlessly, after all, and he struggled to pronounce some of the Trigedasleng words himself. Who was he to judge? Of Dragedakru, he added, and clarified in common, that means 'from Drageda'. Yours might be... uh... Currituck from snow?

He points out the obvious. She is not big and white and her coat isn’t thick. It can’t handle the cold. She frowns and looks down briefly, shrugging a shoulder. “They say I look like my mom,” she says with a smile. It’s weak, but it’s there. “My real mom,” she confirms. No, she’s not related to the snow wolf. “She couldn’t take care of me, though, so she gave me to Tahani and the other snow wolves when I was a baby-baby.” She’s still young now, still a kid, but bigger. Sort of.
 
“Currituck kom ash down?” she repeats back, sort of. A smile creeps upon her face. She repeats it again, this time a little closer, glancing to her new friend for evaluation.

His suspicions were correct: Currituck wasn't originally a snow wolf. She was just like him, although her story seemed more sad than his. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to be given up by your own mother. At least he could comfort himself with the fact that he'd gotten lost. He hadn't been abandoned like Currituck... although no one had ever come looking for him, as far as he knew, so maybe he had.

Oh, I'm sorry she couldn't take care of you. Do you miss her? he wondered. Everyone missed their mom, right? Ephraim missed his, even though he couldn't remember her face or her name or her smell nowadays. I wasn't originally Drakru either, he revealed, swinging his tail amiably. It was something he liked to try to forget, but it was easy to talk to Currituck. I got lost in a big storm and they found me and took me in. I don't know where my family is... I don't even really remember any of them. It was partly due to time and partly due to trauma that he'd forgotten all their faces and names.

Yeah! he exclaimed when she repeated her title. Ephraim kom Drakru. Currituck kom snow. How would the snow wolves say it?

Do you mind if we wrap this up? <3

“I don’t remember her,” she says, a little sadly. She tries, knowing she had time with her. Tahani assured her she’d spent her first few weeks, until she could survive without her and some days she tries and tries to remember that far back. Every so often, she’s met with a flash of a journey but nothing that allows her to go back any further. It, in some weird way, makes her feel a little better than she’s not the only one without her birth family but he at least… well, she doesn’t know.
 
Currituck waves her tail, brushing off the weird feelings.
 
“Currituck from Ikkantatuk?” she says, not realizing the word he’s using isn’t something for home.

The words Currituck spoke were once again unfamiliar, and too liquid in nature for Ephraim to even hope to mimic them. Trigedasleng was easy at its core. The sounds were largely guttural and concise. Inuttut, on the other hand, was a sprawling language with more syllables than he could comfortably count. So instead of trying to repeat what Currituck had said, Ephraim merely nodded and said, yeah, probably!

This went on for a while longer, the two youths exchanging random words in their languages, before Thuringwethil's summons drew Ephraim back to the group and they parted company with a fond farewell.