Silvertip Mountain Tell Me What The Rain Knows

On an evening stroll, something had led the grey wolf astray. A lone bird's song had entranced him, drew him to the base of a tree to listen. More birds began to join, and before long he too found himself humming along with them. Even swaying his head a bit, his tail thumping to the rhythm. He loved songbirds, especially in the morning. He would wake up almost every day to hear them. Either that, or plain silence. Or rain.

Chaska closed his eyes so that there would be no distractions, only the sound of the birds, and the wind that carried their music. To some others, it may have seemed like them just chirping random tunes. But to him, there was wonder in their song. A calmness washed over him as he continued to hum in tune.

It was quiet that night. The sun cast a vibrant glow against the rugged land of Silvertip, and the sky slowly sunk to the calming color of the night. Soon the stars would begin to peek through the darkened canopy, and Nanook would turn her eyes to survey them again. She found comfort in their presence, the understanding they never changed wherever she travelled. And she liked the idea that somewhere, her family looked to the same sky as she.

She rested in the silence. A lone bird sounded nearby, and she turned an ear to listen. She had heard many songs before, but never one as this. There was something of beauty to it, but the sound chilled her, for there was something different in this one's chorus. Nanook's brows pinched and shifted in her unease. It lingered still, even after more birds joined in to soften the sound.

Nanook lay still for a moment, before she opened her eyes and lifted her head to survey the land beyond her. Her eyes took a second to adjust to the evening light, but soon the darkened blurs took shape and the form a wolf cut a silhouette against the sky. He swayed with the song and the wind that whistled through the mountain's crags, and a shiver quivered her spine. From the wind or the ghostlike presence, she couldn't tell. Ever silent, the Apaata gave no thought to speech. She merely tipped her head and steadied her ears to listen to the wolf who sang with the birds.

Chaska loved the bird's song. Soon his left forepaw was tapping in tune as well. His tail continued to move in tune with the mother nature's tune. But soon, the bird finished and flew away. He opened his eyes as he heard it begin to fly away, his gaze tracing it as it flew away. 

Once it was out of sight, he sighed. Of course it had to end. But that was the beauty in it. That it did not last forever, and he knew that. With the bird's tune finished, he stood up and started to walk away, only to see the other wolf standing there. Had they heard him humming to a bird? He stood there, staring.

She watched and listened, and found herself mesmerized by the sight of this wolf who sang and swayed with the birds. It was like he could understand them, and Nanook began to fancy that he could. She let her thoughts wander there - on wondering what they were saying, and what the man might be saying to them as he echoed their song.

Nanook imagined even after the melody stopped and the quiet of the evening fell to claim the mountainside again. She imagined even when his eyes turned to her. For once she didn't shrink, but stared and let curiosity lend her head a sideways tilt. "Do you talk to them?" Her question carried soft on the evening air, naive in nature, yet serious and void of jest. The answer wasn't obvious to her, and she needed to know.

What the wolf said answered his silent question. He shook his head to her own question, for he did not understand them. Only the chirps could he hear, no speech. Just a wordless song. And he had returned one of his own to them.

"If I could talk to songbirds, I would have learnt how to sing by now" Chaska jested, looking back up the tree in case there were any others willing to sing a song for him. His ears remained perked, ready to follow the sound of any more songbirds.

"Oh." His answer disappointed her, and she offered him a frown in return. If he couldn't understand their songs, he was no more extraordinary than herself. And she had always been plain Nanook. He looked back to the trees, but even if he found another bird to sing with, the moment would hold none of the mystery it held before.

"But are there wolves who can talk to them?" Her frown held. She had little expectation for him now, except that he would further disappoint her, but her curiosity prompted her to ask.

The grey male shrugged. "I wish I did. Then I could ask them the meaning of the bird's songs. Those you can't understand hold the most mystery, don't they?" He wished he could understand birds for other reasons, such as listening to adventures across far unknown lands during migrations. Or know what they do when no one could see them. 

He turned again to face the female, now standing to address her properly and formally. "Name's Chaska. I assume you are new here?" His tail swayed slowly behind him as he came to stop a couple feet in front.

He didn't answer her question, only shrugged. Nanook's lips drew tight. Of course there was mystery in these things, but what good was a mystery if there was no way to solve it? His lack of solid answer stirred an ember of ambition, and her brow hardened. Even if the man couldn't understand the birds, there still might be someone in the world who could.

She held herself when he approached her, a boldness from her childhood a light in her chest. "Yes." She confirmed his observation, and repeated his name in her head to establish the relationship between wolf and scent. A silence drifted between them until she felt secure in the connection. Then, she replied, "I'm Polaris." The name came no easier to her tongue, even with the many times she had spoken it to herself and to others since arriving to Silvertip, and she wondered if it ever would.

Chaska assumed he had given the wrong answer, and his face fell a bit. "But I guess there might be someone...maybe" he added in a murmur, hoping to repair that bridge a bit. He didn't really know, as he had not met anyone who talked to birds. Or birds that talk to wolves. Only ones that sing. Or peck. Or eat the ones not moving anymore.

He nodded at her name and repeated it in his head. "Well, Polaris, how are you liking the mountain so far?" She didn't seem to say much. It reminded him of himself when he first came here, not speaking too much.

I saw you wanted some storytelling threads - if you want to take this in that direction, feel free! If it's a good one, it'll probably win back those brownie points from Nanook xD

She tucked the ambition away. She would find a bird-whisperer one day. Chaska was not that wolf, but he was who stood before her now, and her promise to Krypton weighed her course of action. These wolves were supposed to be like family, and so she would try to look past the disappointment she painted across the man and see him with some positive light. He appeared a friendly man, and attention wasn't too hard to give (she stared a bit harder, for good measure). All she had to do was talk. But as for conversation, well...

"It's good," she answered, and ran conversation into a wall.

Why not? Even though I don't know what those are

"Yeah, it is." He knew the conversation was falling short. He guessed she must have been a little disappointed in learning he did not talk to birds. And he felt that he didn't want that. His conversations mostly fell short like this, unless he added something on. Something like...An idea clicked into his mind, one that gave a big grin to his muzzle. 

"Do you like stories, Nanook?" he asked. Everyone had a preference of a story. Fact or fiction, romance or action, mystery or myths. Everyone had one.

Their exchange seemed fragile at best, and Nanook's ears tipped away in slight discomfort. Perhaps Chaska would end this quickly, and they'd both be on their way. Instead, she appraised the smile that swept the man's face with a cautious glance, uncertain what to make of the new light in his eyes.

She hadn't expected his question, and she responded with a quizzical look. "Sometimes," she turned her head, her brow furrowed with uncertainty. She didn't know what to make of Chaska yet, but he stirred her interest again. "It depends."

He had her interest again. Or that's what he thought, as she hadn't strayed off to another topic or simply said no right away. "Depends? Well, what kind of story do you enjoy? Give me a topic, and I'll make one off the top of my head." They weren't always the best when cooked up out of nowhere. But he tried to make them interesting for the listener to his story. He set his mind at the ready. As soon as he was given a topic, it would start to make one.