Bearclaw Valley Blowing away the scenery around me

Whenever Xan would hear a new word that he fancied, he would practice saying it in private, and then work on learning the meaning behind it. He'd done the same when learning his name, though that was much easier than other words. He did not need to know the meaning behind his name, as it wasn't a word requiring such in order to be spoken. It was his name, something that would forever belong to him alone, and he liked how it sounded; which was what really mattered. He certainly heard it enough, too, so learning to say it properly and with ease hadn't been difficult. The question for his name was the only inquiry he could truly answer, too, so he always made sure to speak it with a sturdy voice. Then again, he wasn't one to really stutter no matter the word, he'd just say newer ones slower than those he'd known for awhile.

The boy gave a nod of approval when the elder spoke his name, glad he said it correctly, as well as because he hadn't called him by his full name. One point for the dark wolf. He was slowly gaining the boy's favour, though that was something that could easily be snatched away if one wrong move was made. So far, however, the elder wasn't doing much to upset him. His gaze moved back to the shelled-thing, but his ears stayed focused on what the man was saying. Snail. Somehow, the name seemed to fit the way it tasted. He couldn't quite explain how, it just did. "S... sn... ale," he repeated, saying the word slowly as he worked it's pronunciation over with his tongue. It wasn't a difficult word, but he would still practice saying it more later on, perhaps when he was alone or when his siblings were fast asleep.

When Xan looked back up to the face of the shadow, he was pleased to see a look of disgust directed towards the snail. Another point for Cry, in the boy's book. He wasn't too bad of a lupine, and even disliked the taste of the slimy things like the child did. The Inuit was starting to think he might grow to actually like the other, but for now he was still iffy about him. "Snale," he suddenly said again, using his nose to point to the thing. "Where... go?" Sentences were still tough for him, but he wanted to know where the snail went. The shell was there, but a slimy thing seemed to disappear into the shell quite often. Was it hiding something in there?