Wapun Meadow The road is getting hard to see

Etienne moved from swiftcurrent. His golden gaze on the wilds around him. His destination the meadow. To peruse the last leaves of hebs to gather before winter came in loud and cold.

He hummed under his breath as he did so. A simple sea shanty. And he missed home bitterly, heartwrenchingly. But. Did he miss home or being loved?

Frederick had been wandering once more. Perhaps seeking Milan again, perhaps just wishing to relish within the meadow before it was blanketed with snow. Perhaps both. But when he had set out, the scent of a swiftcurrent wolf caught his attention. Someone he hadn't met yet. Lestan and Arric were somewhat familiar to him, but this man, not so much.

A soft, friendly woof announced his presence, slowing his pace as he approached the—well, stranger wasn't the right word. They shared a mutual residency. But perhaps it described Frederick's lack of knowledge. Hello, he hummed quietly, taking a seat only a small ways away from the cream and ash wolf.

What song is that? The one that he sung under his breath, that was.

A behemoth of a man approached him. It had taken getting used to both Akavir and Arric the latter who was huge and this wolf a hairs breadth larger. Etienne was not a largecwolf in any capacity. Medium, lithe almost delicate in stature, but honed with the wirey body of a swimmer.

A small smile. Dat be a song of de sea. W'ere I be from. Born on de cliffs de ocean my cradle.

He smoothed down a stray fur and settled to his haunches. I be Etienne.

Accented words drifted through the air towards him. A tone he had not heard before. Etienne, he nodded with a dip of his head. Whether or not he'd been told of Swiftcurrent's newest recruit, the goliath would introduce himself personally. I am Frederick. Fred, if you like. So far no one had taken a liking to the nickname. Perhaps he would be the first.

The ocean was his cradle, or so he said, and while Frederick couldn't quite understand the connection to the ocean's depth that this wolf held, he knew how it felt to hold on to the songs of your people. Then, the man, too, sat. Frederick would make idle conversation when he did. You are a swiftcurrent wolf, and hopefully the scent on his fur would portray that he was, as well—despite his newness, that was. How is the creek treating you?

Etienne shifted and studied the behemoth in front of him. He had eyes like sea glass. And his coat reminded Etienne of the mountains in the winter. But there was a quietness to him that spoke of things that Etienne could only imagine. And perhaps he didn't want too? Perhaps this man had been through more than his share of bad things. LIke Eti himself.

Wut do you be preferin? Fred or Frederick? You can call me Eti, if you like. A firm nod. Golden eyes studying again.

Etienne smiled softly. The creek 'as 'elped my sister and dat is all I ask. I need not'ing from dem. Dey 'ave 'elped 'er and dat is enough for me. Dey 'ave treated me well.

If I am going to call you Eti, then it is only fitting that you call me Fred. He said this with a smile. Not his usual charismatic one, but a gentle smile. To match Eti's gentle demeanor, perhaps. He watched as the honey-hued eyes surveyed him, a strange prickling feeling on the back of his next, but no other indicators of uncomfortability.

Swiftcurrent was treating Etienne's sister well, and Fred nodded in compassion. That was good, then. He wondered if Adrian needed help, one day. Maybe he'd bring him here. Hm. Sorry, I'm still fairly new here—who is your sister? His tone was apologetic, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity. He wanted to get to know all the swiftcurrent wolves he could before he eventually had to pack up and go.