Duck Lake The Tingler

He let out a ragged sigh. He forgot so often that he wasn't south, with his tribe, and let loose these phrases. Kalnee. Fengari. Iliana. No one here knew all this. That's why he had come, right? Still, it never ceased to give him a pang of homesickness, to speak and get no reply.

"It means 'good evening,'" Phocion explained, feeling sheepish. "Sorry."

They stood in silence for a while, Phocion trying his hardest not to be too terribly awkward. He was usually quite glib, but the non-answer had thrown him off. He had always been quick to wallow, and he wallowed now for a long moment, thinking about how easy it would be to run back home.

"Do you live around here, or just passing through?" he asked, if only to break the quiet.