Bramblepoint godless and free

Italics are Russian!

Njal was stewing with his thoughts, and before long there came a rustling in the area next to him. It was only natural that he try to get up in a sprightly manner - which failed - and thus, when he was up on his feet, he inevitably sank back down to his haunches. Over a matter of seconds his biggest fault was exposed. The voice that broke through the trees made him turn his head sharply, his eyes narrowing as soon as they landed on the wiry wolf in the shadows.

The stranger's words took a second to register, and another for him to translate - it was broken up, as if he could not speak the common tongue very well - but also familiar. Njal took a stab in the dark with his reply; he switched to his mother tongue. A little sore, but not bad like your use of common. Njal watched the stranger for recognition.