Iktome Plains Coastal Wolves

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he smiles and he waits - so very patiently he does. ah, he longs to see when the fair lady realises his origins! yet, it does not seem that she has picked up on his scent nor his concealed hints and for a little while the youth finds disappointment cresting his mind and bleeding deep into his thoughts. he had so much hope for her! but alas, his potential, like her wolves, have eluded him.
at this the boy sighs, his eyes wandering to find hers. surely she must know by now! at least a little - if not, he is unsure of the haste of his acceptance into the very same pack that they share with his lord and lady! he wishes not to be yet part of another band of merry travellers and he doubts...
but he is a wordweaver in spirit and duty - ah-ah-ah, perhaps he might spin a story of it for the dear to hear.
"there was a boy upon-a-time," says ysen, slipping around the blunt query, "and he was from lands far-far-away, lands that the eye could not see and with things that this place has not known." does she see now? that he is not from here? does she scent the tribe-markings on his fur? "he was a spinner of words - for this he had learnt the tongue of the fish, of the bird, of the wolf and of the deer. " he pauses, eyes a-glow with the thrill of the tale.
"but then he fell asleep, and when his eyes flew open he found a noble-born gazing at him, and he was glad to sing for her. and he found a lord, and the boy was a nightingale for him too."
"alas, the boy was a simple wanderer; he stayed a few days and went again, driven by heart, guided by the sight of duty! and he wished to return to his lord and lady..."
ysen quiets himself, knowing that that part of the web has not been woven just yet, and he stares wide-eyed at the lady - perhaps, ah, perhaps she shall have more to add on to his story!

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