Wheeling Gull Isle neakita flower

Among the greenhills.

Mojag was brought to the center of the island where he was warmed, dried, and given space to sleep. He found it hard to fall asleep, which was surprising given how tired he was.

He managed a few hours — although the boy startled awake a few times, kicking out with sore legs, or shouting for his mother; in either case someone was there to soothe him until he rested, bit by bit.

The last time that he woke up, it was to the sound of birdsong and for a solid few minutes Mojag had forgotten where he was. He expected to look up and see his mother climbing the rise - or Callyope with a pelt to show off to him.

When he came-to fully, the gold of his eyes dulled and he remembered.

some minutes later, mo might hear heda's footsteps, climbing the western side of the greenhills. she had caught a duck, one wearing vibrant teal plumage. she dropped it not far off and crossed to sit nearby, offering the younger wolf his space until he got to know the others.
"do you remember where you came from?"
her gilt eyes flicked over him. and then she found her attention captured by the bird's flock, leaving the island to fly out over the sea.

The sound of footfalls drew his attention, then his gaze lit upon a pale figure he was certain to be Kukutux for that split-second, but then he dashed that hope against the earth. This wolf had a reddish streak upon their face - and a duck swinging from their jaws. It was the woman from before.

The boy gave a nod, watching her unabashedly, and then drew his eyes up to the sky when the little figures of the birds flew out across the water.

A village with my mother. He was tired, and didn't think to specify which one, and couldn't name his mother aloud because the heartache wouldn't let him. It felt so far away regardless, so what good would names do?

Do you live here? You and the man. Is he your taataa?

heda's gaze came back to him. 'what's taataa?" her cheeks burned; she felt she knew the answer. but the girl opted not to assume until the little boy had confirmed. besides, nothing he said seemed familiar.
"i live here. there's another girl called jasmine too." a village with his mother. something twisted in heda's chest as she thought of sequoia, then druid and witch and even worripa.
she looked back out toward the sea.

It had not occurred to Mojag that people came from different places - well, n0, he knew Natigvik was different from Moonglow, but he saw them as similar enough to assume all villages spoke one shared language and carried the same customs; so when Heda proved this to be a wrong assumption, Mojag was briefly surprised, confused, intrigued - and he did not know what to say for a heartbeat or two.

Heda lived here with another girl, and the man. It was a small family then. Not the same number as a village, nor strength. Mojag did not think in those exact terms - strength, weakness, - only that it sounded very different.

Um, oh.. taataa is... what we call our fathers. He explained bashfully. I was looking for my taataa when I... I got swept away. I wanted to bring him home so my anaa -- my mother, could be happy again.

It felt almost wrong to speak of this quest to the stranger woman. Too personal, almost. Mojag did not usually hold himself to such boundaries; but he had also never met someone so outside his own kind.

fathers.
she fought the bristle of anger along her red-marked spine. he'd lost his and gone looking for him. for his mother. heda burned with the rage she had swallowed, that this little boy should too be affected by the actions of a wayward father.
she sniffed.
she was making a bunch of assumptions. "so, uh, what happened? was he like hunting or, you know, whatever?" despite herself, heda was curious. part of her wanted to be wrong.

As young as Mojag was, as excitable and easily waylaid by childish notions, he had always been aware. Mindful of others in a way that came easily to some children. Heda's brief flare of emotion was hard to miss.

Her question was met with a small shrug. He went away when I was really little. I want to be a good hunter one day like my mother and so I thought... I could do that. I could find him and make him stay. It seemed like a natural progression of events to him.

I guess I'm not very good after all. The boy murmured lowly, realizing how far off-track he'd ended up.

heda gave an abrupt shake of her head. "no, not at all. look how far you made it. even across the ocean itself." the edge of her smile quirked into something that wasn't quite warm, but meant to be encouraging. "i'm sure your mom really misses you," she said, studying him. "and you — you shouldn't have to track your dad down. he should just — be there."
heda shrugged, then moved to her paws. "you feeling steady enough to walk? do you want to see a turtle?"

He had never been told of the ocean except in the stories of Sedna, and in such a case it never seemed like a tangible thing. The boy stared at Heda as this processed and then switched gears upon hearing about turtles.

What's that?! It was easy to abandon the more serious worries he carried, as Mojag could do nothing about his situation; he was a boy, and a shining example of one in that instant - on his feet and raring to go!

heda too was ready to leave the conversation behind. she shook out her red-haired ruff and headed down the slope of the greenhills.
"it's like a big — like a big dinosaur thing. scaly skin. rough face. humongous."
the grass would thin, then turn to warm pools of water, ankle-deep for her. she scanned them for the barnacle-encrusted shell of the giant sea monster.

Mojag followed as best he could, his pace unabated, refusing to let his body dictate his limits.

The creature sounded amazing! Immediately he wanted to know what it looked like close-up, and needed to record this adventure to regale Callyope --

It was that thought which hitched his step. His toes touched one of the settled pools and the boy recoiled as if shocked, looking for Heda and blinking rapidly as if sand was caught in his gaze.

heda heard him step and then no more. she looked back curiously at him, wondering why he was so surprised. "this is the lowest beach. when the tide comes in, it overflows the sand. there's always water here."
would it be ice in the wintertime?
"look!" a giant leatherback turtle, almost larger than the kid himself. it moved idly in the sand and rolled a massive reddened eye toward the two. "isn't it huge?"

He listened to the explanation until the creature moved and then up went Mo's tail, ears, and eyes wide open; alert and curious. It looked like a rock! It had a face though, and funny shapes to its body.

Whoaaah!

Without thinking he raced towards it, only to dip in to cautious bows, fleeting, trying to get close but not too close - a sniff, without provoking it.

heda followed with a warning bark. "best be careful. see that sharp mouth? i saw it cut a whole branch in half."
she looked over at the boy with fondness in her golden eyes. "needs a name." the turtle rumbled and started to move opposite the inquisitive land-dwellers.

The warning came as the turtle shifted to leave, and Mojag was watching Heda, so he did not notice the way it shambled across the sand. When he looked back it hadn't moved far but he chose to hang back, suitably wary now that the warning had been issued.

He skirted the edge of the turtle's limits with his head down, as if he were hunting it. I dunno about names, the boy admitted, stealing glances to Heda for another second, then focusing entirely on the terrapin. What'd'we call you? Hmm?

Side-stepping one way, then the other, almost like he were herding the thing.

the turtle floated out on the current. heda followed at its left until the surf touched her underbelly. the girl retreated back now, joining mojag. "well, at first i thought a dumb name could be cool. like — berry. or sunshine." she laughed.
"but maybe like grandpa or i dunno, psalm. psalm, like a song." like one of bartholomew's songs.

The water caught it. Mojag wasn't comfortable getting closer after that and so he hung back upon the beach, watching as Heda moved closer and saw how the water tampered down her fur.

Pizzam? He didn't know that word; it didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard before, but he liked it. Bye-bye Psalm! His front feet stomped and slapped the wet sand as he danced a farewell towards the retreating creature, looking very much like a stone bobbing with the waves until the turtle was out of sight.

psalm.
for some reason her eyes stung.
heda turned sharply away so mojag wouldn't see. "that's a good name. thanks for helping me. maybe i'll let you win the race," she teased.
and then she broke into a slow jog, heading back toward the firmer ground as she lashed her tail in challenge.

Race?

Immediately his focus shifted away from the turtle as it bobbed, and he bolted along the coastline.

His paws were broad and dug large divots out of the wet sand, kicking up chunks, and for a bit he was distracted by the fun of that; Mojag did not notice the weight that carried in Heda, even as he caught up to her and followed up to firmer ground.