King Elk Forest civilization is coming and it means to exterminate us

he has no idea what uka is saying, it sounds like - gibberish, meaningless syllables strung together. a foreign language, probably. delight twists, briefly averting his eyes from the wondrous visage to fix his newly founded packmate with a look, possibly meant to be stern and failing. really, he can't fault even uka for wanting to speak, to know more about the god-creature - he himself has so many questions burning his throat.

unbeknownst to the wisp, the celestial phenomenon above is beginning to shift as the eclipse nears its end. the shadows change around them, but delight feels it's magic of some sort, it must be, something of the elk king's power. suddenly he feels urgent as he steps forward, eyes glowing bright with need. "we are tindómë," the androgyne says in hushed tones - maybe the elk king doesn't care at all, but it seems only right to introduce them - "i am our chronicler -" (a bold claim!) "- please, tell us - what do you want from us?"

he isn't expecting a spoken answer - maybe a sign of some sort - but he can't help but feel the god-creature's gaze on him is searching, can't help but wonder if he is being measured for worthiness (and if he isn't worthy o god he will remake himself into something light and good). the elk king snorts - derisive, disinterested, accepting, approving? - and turns away from him. del shifts, thinking at first to follow - but remembers uka and stalls: he and only he should be the one to pursue the elk and learn its secrets, but he would shoot himself in the foot to stop uka from following him now. lowly he hisses, "let him go," just in case, just in case, and lays low into the ground, letting his belly scrape the dirt as the sky brightens overhead.