Wapun Meadow Sing, Bluebird, sing

"Simatra," she voiced in reply to one of the grey wolf's requirements. She drew back from the contact, albeit a little sheepishly, to rest a few feet away. Perhaps it was her time spent away from the tribe that had her overestimate the confidence and trust that two strangers should behold; she deemed herself a little off in the head yet she had meant well, hadn't she?

She listened to his introduction, nodding her head in response as he spoke his name in a way to distract herself from the apologetically queer situation she had helped to create. "I lived far from here in a tribe. I was a Dezba there, a warrior." She thought little of her family, though she held her brother within fond memories. "Tell me about this...Keep," she'd ask, "What's it like?"