Bearclaw Valley Tâvanimiut

The male was not left waiting long, though the time it took for her to reach him was just long enough to allow his mind time to wander. Thoughts swirled around in his head, as did some memories his brain provided for him. It was like looking, and listening, through a dull and snow-covered sheet of ice. It was, in a way, like trying to listen in through the thick walls of the cave he'd been born into, though at times certain words and images came in much clearer. He could recall the time back when he'd met Scarlett, grinning inwardly to himself as he remembered exactly how they'd met. She'd been lost in the Wilds, and just so happened to had gotten fairly close to his previous pack's borders. It was before he'd officially earned his trade as a Warden, but there'd been something about her that had prevented him from acting towards her in the same manner he'd acted towards others that had gotten too close. They'd met several times after, too, before they'd eventually confessed their love to one another, and then founded the pack of Bearclaw Valley as a mated couple. Back then, things seemed wonderful, as if the life he'd secretly yearned for had been handed right to him. But, alas, even the greatest of things must eventually come to an end.

While, technically, the two were still married, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him it would not be for much longer. He noticed things. He noticed how distant they'd become from one another, and then how much closer she'd grown to the Roman. The man was not blind, and yet he didn't step in to stop it from progressing any farther. No, he just stayed away and let it all unfold before him, until he'd finally realized it was much too late to do anything anymore. The Inuit had trusted her in many ways. He'd given her his heart, and had entrusted her with the task of looking after it. He'd been absent for a great while, yes, but there was a memory in the far corners of his mind that had urged him to believe it'd be just fine. In his birth pack, males and females would go off for weeks on end to track herds and hunt down larger, more dangerous prey. They'd travel to the seas to catch seals and the like, and there was never a guarantee on when they'd be back. For some, there was never even the guarantee that they'd ever be back. Still, though, those who stayed behind to look after the pack and it's young stayed loyal to their partners. Never once had he heard any of them complain or shout out how much they desired the comforting touch of their lovers. Not once were they anything but strong, putting on a brave face for all those near and far to see. The Inuit had made a mistake by believing Scarlett would be the save way, though. He'd screwed up the second he'd started to view her as a woman from his lands, when she so clearly was not.

To the sound of a voice, Kove's head turned to look at the pale face of his fellow Northerner. During his zoned-out state, his head had slowly drifted to the side in order to silently watch the falling water, but luckily he'd been able to snap back to his senses just in time to hear her. It would have been fairly embarrassing to ask her to repeat herself, after all. It was both the words she spoke and the language she used that had gotten his attention. Again, she addressed him with 'Nittunattuk'. It was a word he knew all too well, and he appreciated her usage of it. As conceited of a thought as it might have been, he really did find himself worthy of it, though he would never voice such thoughts aloud. Instead, he gave a soft nod of his head in response to what she'd said, silently confirming that her suspicions were, in fact, correct. "Salutitsinik, nukadlik," the ghost returned, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his maw. Oh, how he missed speaking the language of his people. While he could speak it with Alexander currently, and perhaps his other children soon, that was much different. They were still young, still learning the language and practicing it, trying each word out on their tongues with a hint of hesitation each time. It took a bit for them to be able to speak the words with the prideful tone that the language deserved, but the same was not the case for the woman before him. Azaria seemed to know the language just as well as any of those from his birth pack, which led him to believe that she was of Inuit blood—just like himself.

"Nanimiunguven?" the man asked, wishing to either confirm or rebuke his assumptions. Giving a slow shake of his head, he then set his copper gaze on her and offered the girl a genuine smile. "Kangâ. If you think asking that is prying, there's no need to answer it," he told her, not wishing to frighten her away due to his curiosity. "Since coming here, I've yet to hear anyone speak Inuttut, so the idea of having another of Inuit blood around who isn't one of my children is... illukki." Kove's tail had started to sway ever so slightly as he neared the end of his words, further proving his joy towards the fact that he would no longer be alone. For once, he would have someone he could speak with normally, rather than teach, which was bound to be a wonderful thing. Already, he was considering allowing her to assist him in the teaching of his children, that way they would learn from both the male and female perspective of the Inuits. They would learn of the pride and honour they were meant to carry with them, but also of how respecting one's elders and ancestors was of key importance. Then again, he knew he would need to learn more of the woman before bringing her around his children, but that was a bridge he was currently working on crossing over.