Big Salmon Lake It's funnier in Enochian.

Towhee really wasn't one to wander. She didn't possess any desire to leave her homeland, nor see the rest of the world. But after combing through Bramblepoint in search of @Hydra and coming up empty, she found herself on the far northern edge of the woods. She panted in the late May heat, her tongue lolling from her black muzzle. When her eyes clapped upon the glistening lake in the distance over yonder, she didn't think anything of it; automatically, she began to trot in that direction, eager to slake the thirst drying out her throat.

She drank greedily, then noisily licked her chops as she lifted her head and peered at her surroundings. Although they didn't work in a sense (pun intended), Towhee's ears pricked alertly as she surveyed the shore. There was a flock of Canadian geese on the opposite side of the lake but the she-wolf ignored them. There wasn't much else of note otherwise. With a small snort, the Xi pivoted to begin heading back toward the woods and the caldera just beyond.

slides in

He'd eventually parted ways from the little chimera. He'd passed by the forest, though he'd not probed too deeply. Étoille did not know if he would pursue this Slade fellow or not. It seemed rash to align himself so quickly with someone. (Though was this even the forest the boy had spoken of? He would have to pay attention.)

There was a lake. And moreso, another wolf, whom he scented rather than saw first. Not that she was hard to spot with such distinctive markings. It reminded Étoille of a bird of some sort. She seemed to be headed somewhere. Normally Étoille's nature was such that he would leave her unbothered. But he wondered if she knew the man he'd been told to look for. Or at least, more information about these lands, which seemed significantly larger and more populated than his previous home. 

"Hello," he called out, large form still a respectable distance from her. No need to be pushy about it, after all.

*waves frantically*

She didn't hear the call. But something—perhaps a sixth sense of some sort—caused Towhee to pause and then glance over her snow-streaked shoulder. Her fur immediately prickled when her orange eyes clapped upon the stranger striding along the shore. Swiftly, she turned to face him fully, defensive despite the distance between them. He appeared to be gazing right at her, which prompted her eyes to narrow.

She squinted at him for a long beat, debating whether to say something or ignore him entirely and be on her way. Towhee didn't like the thought of turning her back on a stranger. And though she was never in any rush to make friends outside of the pack (or even those newly accepted into it, for that matter), there was something about him that struck her interest, something inexplicable.

"What do you want?" she asked at length, voice slow and clunky.

Ah. She seemed put off by his intrusion. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes sweep low. His gaze came to rest absently at her ankles, lifting again when she spoke. Something about her voice seemed off to him. As if it was rusty with disuse. Étoille was no stranger to going periods of time without speaking, but it seemed notable somehow. Like he was missing something. "Apologies," he demurred. "I am unfamiliar with these lands. Have you heard of a wolf named Slade?" Might as well get to the point; she didnt seem like a woman who enjoyed having her time wasted on pleasantries.

There was something oddly pleasant about his face, an errant thought that made Towhee snort at herself. She bit at her lip and continued squinting as he spoke, doing her best to follow the motions of his mouth. It was less difficult than with most strangers; some wolves were just easier to read. She caught his apology, then a bit about his newness to the lands. He inquired about someone by name, though the movement of his lips was entirely foreign to her.

"No," she answered simply. "I don't know that many wolves," she added slowly after a beat. "I stick close to my pack." She jerked her nose in the direction of the caldera, which was just barely visible above the tree line, then faced him again. "Is Slade a member of your pack?" she queried, inwardly marveling a bit as she found herself making conversation.

bein a little vague jic

Hm. He watched her eyes follow his mouth. The man couldn't quite put his finger on the situation, but he did not think to ask about it, either. Peoples' oddities were theirs alone. She did not know the man named Slade, though she provided a different bit of information. A pack nearby. Étoille followed the movement of her nose, curious. "He is not," he answered. "I do not have a pack." For the moment, anyway. It was serendipitous that a pack should be so close to where he wound up. "What is your pack?" Étoille asked her, more genuinely curious than polite for once, and glanced to the just-visible caldera again.

Slade wasn't part of his pack, due in part to the fact that he didn't have a pack. Towhee's eyebrows raised. He was a lone wolf then? She instinctively despised the idea of being without a pack; it went against every grain of her nature. A few dozen questions cropped up in her mind, collecting at the back of her teeth, but she waited for him to finish first. He had a question of his own.

"It's called Redhawk Caldera," she said, largely unaware that it came out sounding like Red-dock Called-ruh (most of her words didn't sound quite right). "Why don't you have a pack? How do you survive?" she wondered bluntly. Towhee then abruptly remembered to ask, "What's your name?"

He made quick note of the name. Reddock Caldrah. Though he hadn't realised yet she was deaf, he had noticed the unusual pronounciations of her words. It was likely then that 'Reddock Caldrah' was something else. But without context, he could not guess. He did not try to confirm what he had heard with her. It didn't matter much, and if he met another wolf from Reddock he could course correct then.

She seemed put off by his lack of pack. Not in the offended sense, but disarmed. Being a man who carried himself with a casual indifference, Étoille could never figure out other's passions for these sorts of things. "My previous pack disbanded," he explained, tone matching her bluntness, "so I left. I am Étoille." He exaggerated the pronounciation of his name just slightly for her: eh--twal. "And yours?"

The word "disbanded" was not one she knew, though Towhee could guess at its meaning. She usually would've requested clarification but she felt a slight flush of embarrassment at the thought of admitting her naïveté to him. That gave her pause. Why should she feel so self-conscious around this wolf? Who was he to her? No one, her inner voice reminded her sneeringly, he's an outsider. What are you even doing right now?

Flustered, she took half a step backward, then froze. He had asked her something and she found herself unable to resist the impulse to answer. "Towhee Woodley Redhawk," she said, not sure why she included her middle name. Had she even pronounced it correctly? Speaking of which: "Étoille," she repeated, lifting her brows to see if she had said it right before thinking belatedly to inform him, "I can't actually hear you; I'm deaf. But I can read lips, for the most part."

ah sorry i missed this reply!

 "Towhee," he mimicked, as she did, repeating the name he was given. If her pronunciation of his own name was a little bit off he did not notice nor mind. His expression remained impassive even as she announced her condition. Ah. Étoille had not quite put that together. It made sense. But they could communicate well enough in spite of it. He dipped his head briefly. "I can repeat, if needed," the man said simply. It didn't seem like she needed him to yet but it didn't hurt to lay it out. 

It occured to him that her last name and the pack name must be the same word. Redhawk, then. Hm. "Your pack," he started, and then trailed off, not quite sure what he was trying to ask. "You share a name," Étoille finally said after a minute. Why he was curious, he was unsure. Mostly likely it was insignificant. A coincidence. But.. conversation was pleasant, at times. Particularly with a similarly minded individual.

"Your pack," he said and Towhee cocked her head, feeling a mixture of defensiveness and pride sweep over her before he could even finish his sentence. "You share a name." At first, she didn't quite follow, then it clicked. He was observing the fact that her surname came from the name of the pack and its territory.

"Yes," she affirmed. "My parents took the caldera's name as their surname when they founded the pack." She hesitated, wondering whether it was really wise to give away information about the caldera to a stranger, no matter how handsome. But what harm could come from it? "They lived in different packs when they met. They lived together at the plateau a while, then decided to start their own pack together in order to have and raise children. All of us have taken the Redhawk name."

Well, the Betas hadn't. It was something she had only thought of recently. Wasn't she as much a Blackthorn as a Redhawk? But why hadn't Elwood and Finley taken the name? It was all a curiosity to her, though nothing she needed to share with her new acquaintance here, just like there was no reason to get into her parents' deaths and her somewhat nontraditional upbringing. She would just have to float that past her godparents at some point though.

With uncharacteristic reluctance, Towhee though to add, "I should really be getting back there. I don't leave the territory much and they'll wonder where I went." She very nearly told him it was nice to meet him but she couldn't quite bring herself to say the strange words. Instead, the Xi simply said, "Bye, Étoille." With a last lingering look, she then forced her attention away and turned, loping back in the direction of her homeland without a backward glance (much as she was tempted).

Ah. She was a descendant of the founders, then. He wasn't sure if he found that interesting or not. Étoille had never been very good at the give and take of conversation. Not that he couldn't articulate his thoughts well enough, but often he couldn't be bothered. Just as well, for the woman was ready to be on her way.

"Take care, Towhee," he said, dark eyes lingering on her retreating form. He could follow her. Request a place in the Caldera, perhaps. But he wasn't quite ready for the commitment. There was something about Towhee he liked, though. He hoped they would run into each other again some time. 

But for now, he'd take his leave, too.