Moonsong Glacier One must have a mind of winter

@Dutch .. Super excited to have her here! ^^

Soft steps, every so often a careful sniff. These lands are known little, but they seem safe enough. 

Scents linger near, though difficult to place. Wolves are here, she is certain. But are they kind? Will they be, as her tribekin always were? 

Not all are alike in this way, she knows. But still, she is hopeful. 

No longer can she be alone, especially in a place so unfamiliar. While she does not fear the unknown, it is better to play things safe, then to make herself out as a fool by trying to handle more of what life may throw at her than she is able.

The panther hunted near the borderlands, leaving the deer on the territory's interior at peace. Today he was sniffing at a fresh trail, contemplating sending up a howl for help. One of the does seemed to be lagging behind the others, although he would not know for sure until he caught up to them.

Before that happened, however, he came across a pale, slight wolf. His heart gave a heavy double-thump as he misidentified her — but in the next moment, he could see that it was not Tulugak who stood before him.

"Peace be," he said to her — although she was on his borders, and he thought it was her obligation to offer peace. He saw fit then to tell her: "You tread near to the village of Morningsong. We hunt these lands between."

The message was clear, despite his kind eyes and his level tone: State your business.

Aukataalungani! She speaks in a breathy gasp—absently reverting to her mother tongue—eyes widening a touch to add to the display of her surprise.

Forgive me... Sheepishly, her ears fold back slowly. I am a tad jumpy at times. 

A glance down, and then her sun-kissed hues return to him. 

Slowly, her nose twitches, noting the match of scent he holds to this land. It is his, as just as he says. I do not come to intrude, She is quick to clarify, and even quicker to bow her head low in submission. It was always frowned upon to intrude on another's place of resting. The same concept applied here, and she would not disobey the lesson she had always been reminded.

The woman startled, and Dutch reeled back a fraction in time with her. His brows rose at the unintelligible cry, and he was relieved when the next words she spoke were — well. Recognizable as words.

"There is no need to apologize," he replied, taking pity on the sylph and further gentling his tone. She was only small, and still quite young by his measure. He couldn't imagine her being much of a threat to them.

Still. He would've liked to hear word before catching scent. He would have to excuse her for her relative youth and probable inexperience — later on, he might admit to himself that it was his own state of mind that'd contributed most to his pique.

"Then why do you come?" he asked her. "I will grant you safe passage, if our claim stands in your path."

Dipping her chin softly in gratitude of what she took as forgiveness, her posture relaxes, a gentle smile weighing over her expression. 

If I am honest, I have no intended path. I have only since recent left the land of my tribekin... I am, how do some say — seeking a fresh start? A new beginning, to make my life my own. Yes, that seemed the right way to put it! 

Oh, hopefully he understood!

She was a soft and shrinking creature, and one apparently traveling without a minder. He  was sorry to have been brusque with her, suddenly.

"I hope you will be honest," he replied, a tired smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And if you are, then you have come to the right place. These villages have been welcoming to me and my own kin. You may well find a start among them."

He swept an assessing look up and down her small figure.

"What skills do you possess?" he asked her. "I hope you will still be honest — but please spare me any attempts at modesty."

What skills did she possess? Only one came to mind in an instant.

Swimming, The word slips from her tongue in an instant, as if by instinct. 

Sheepish, yet again, she downcast her eyes. My tribekin are all taught from a young age... to build strength and agility when it comes to water. We swim, and we fish. But not as often as we might hunt on land. 

More skills might come from this.

Hunting rabbits from their burrows.. we learn this as well. And how to tend the pelts from our hunts to keep warm in the cold season. She could to delve into more, but he may not be interested. Boring him with their traditions and knowledge isn't something she intends to do.

Yet, anyway. 

I am still young, of course... Clearing her throat softly, she lifts her eyes once more. I am open and willing to learn more, should doing so be beneficial to myself, or others around me. She delights at the thought, even!

Silence, then, as the panther bit his tongue: Swimming is a hobby, not a skill, he almost said. He was glad when she dipped her head; he was embarrassed on her behalf. But that brief moment of discomfort bought her time to reword and expand on that point, and although fishing was not the first skill he'd pick for a wolf, it was certainly respectable. Challenging, in a way that showed strength and promise.

He looked at her again, a little more critically this time. Perhaps she was not so soft as she appeared.

"A commendable set of skills," he said, his tone extra approving to make up for the previous moment of embarrassment. "There are none in this pack who know well how to treat hides. I can tell you of the other packs in the region, but perhaps you will remain here with us. You would be provided for — expected to hunt as well, yes, but supported so you have time for the hides."

Other ideas came to mind. She was young, as she said — and she was willing to learn. That was important in a pack with Morningsong's membership.

His approval came as a surprise, given she had little to offer.

And so did his next words!

You would let me stay? She asks, almost disbelieving as her head tilts, eyes searching him curiously.

"Probably," said Dutch, amused by her shock. "You have a skill that would be valuable to us. One that no others in this pack yet possess."

He beckoned her along, moving once more along his hunting path. They might as well walk and talk, so that he could accomplish something even if she didn't decide to stay.

"My name is Dutch Arjun," he said to her. "I am chief, here. If you will stay, and prepare our hides, you will be well taken care of."

A pause, and then:

"There are other considerations." Was this really his business? Did he dare meddle?

Of course he dared.

"Do you wish to be a mother this year?" he asked her. "A wife? We have need of one."

When he moved, she picked up her feet quickly and fell in step beside him. His stride was long, but she managed. 

If you choose to welcome me, I will stay, Cheif Dutch. The usage of his title and name are tentatively spoken, for she is unsure how he prefers to be addressed. But only by trial and error can she learn his way. 

I am Eira—properly known as Gwyneira, daughter of the [i]Imaguk[i] tribe. A soft, respectful return of introductions.

I have the desire to be mother and wife, yes. The elders of my mother tribe teach us to want this, for it it part of our purpose. But I want it, not only because they want it for us. I delight in the idea, in fact. She truly did. Who wouldn't want such a prospect?

The chief's smile warmed. He stole a glance at her, laughter in his eyes. "Just Dutch is fine, Eira," he assured her, although he was pleased to have been addressed as such.

She was small. This was his main hang-up. Small women made small sons and daughters. But her temperament pleased him, even if it wasn't what he looked for in a woman for himself.

"There is a man here called Fallen Sun," he said to her. "Strong of heart and kind in spirit. He is a strong hunter. A protector. A provider."

He watched her face — did she understand how precious a creature that could be?

"He does not speak the common tongue, nor any other that is known to me," he said to her. "But love can be a quiet thing, can it not? And he is a man very deserving of it. I would like you to seek him out with these things in your mind."

He leveled a long look at the young woman. Was she willing?

"If he does not please you, then you may still remain among us. Your worth as a leather worker is of much value. And it is my wish to see him happy — and he will not be happy if his wife is not happy to be with him."

She nodded thoughtfully, thinking on these words. 

He sounds to be a delight in company, and a worthy companion. How many other men could she count and say they met these attributes? They were few, even among her tribekin. 

When my sitik is made, I will seek this man, as you have said. It was no set commitment. Only the man of spoken name could prove himself, even despite the cheif's high praise. The two together would decide if they were a fitting match.

The chief inclined his head; he believed these things wholly of Fallen Sun.

"I do not know this word. Sitik," he said, hoping for a translation despite context clues being relatively clear.

But he was pleased all the same by her words. Time would tell whether or not she would be true to them.

"When you introduce yourself to the others, you will tell them they can bring their pelts to you," he told her, his tail swinging in satisfaction. "We are still few here at the glacier. We have a doctor, Leith — he is also a suitable choice, if he pleases you. He is the only other choice, as Junior and Sulukinak are both women."

He would not order her not to seek men outside the pack, but the message was likely clear enough.

"You may see our allies coming and going," he went on. "They are the moon villages. Moontide smells of salt breeze. Moonglow of the rich valley. Moonspear of the high mountains. They should declare themselves to you, if you come across them, but they are welcome in our home."

Warmth quickly floods through her cheeks. How many times could she possibly embarrass herself in a single interaction!

Accept my apology, Dutch... I have grown so used to speaking words of my mother tongue. I forget it is unfamiliar to many. And she would likely forget it many times more. Sitik... this means: den, or sleeping place. 

Alongside the man called Fallen Sun, they have another—Leith. A healer. Perhaps she would seek him too, but for a reason other than a potential courtship. Herbology had always been an interest; though one she had yet to explore. 

There are many moon villages, She decides, speaking the thought aloud. I look forward to meeting them. If not all, then whomever I may cross paths with.

"You do not need to apologize," he assured her. "Perhaps you can give me lessons on this language. I am a storyteller — it helps to have many words at my disposal."

She seemed a thoughtful young woman. Dutch hoped that Fallen Sun's silence would not frustrate her because of this, but only time would tell if they were a good match. He would have to remain vigilant, lest the season pass him by.

"Good," he said with another satisfied swish of his tail. "I am hunting, now. You may accompany if you wish." And afterward, perhaps a tour. If not, he would allow her to explore at her leisure.

His desire to learn excites her. Never before had she been a teacher to another, but why not start now? When you wish to learn, call on me, and I will delight in teaching you. 

The offer to join him on a hunt was enticing, and may have been beneficial in regards to showing him what skill she possessed. But too many thoughts pressed her mind to focus on such a task. 

I will leave you to hunt alone, while I search for a place that my sitik will reside. Next time, perhaps.

The panther nodded once more; he would have liked to see her hunt, but he supposed she might be tired from her lonely travels. Besides — if she took to the tasks he'd set for her, her skill as a hunter would not be so important.

"Go in peace," he said. The panther watched her go, contemplative, before eventually returning to his hunt.

Last from me!

May your hunt be fruitful, She offers in return. 

Then, after a polite nod, she turns away, tail slowly swaying after her as the hunt for a suitable sleeping place begins.