Meadowlark Prairie i know you want to cry all night, all night

The figure drew closer and closer, and Mou was struck by the odd thought of a rushing wave crested with foaming white. They slowed to a stop and appeared to be inspecting him just as he was watching them, both parties silent in their appraisal. Whoever this was, Mou was right to be cautious. They looked healthy and fit. By far a healthier specimen than himself, which meant they could've been a danger.

Mou would remain curious but cautious, even after they greeted him. The tone wasn't harsh but the voice was certainly unfamiliar. They did not approach him any further then they felt necessary and Mou appreciated that; he felt less like a cornered animal with the space yawning around the two of them. Unfortunate for the stranger, the boy wouldn't be able to make a proper greeting in response — he opened his mouth, closed it, and with a deep breath he tilted his chin so they could see his throat as a way of explanation.

His singular eye fixed on the stranger, and his expression was partly sorrowful and partly apologetic, trying to convey that he was sorry but he couldn't speak. He'd keep what little language skills he had developed to himself for now. After this display, Mou looked around and then made a show of trying to look beyond where the pale stranger had stopped, and motioned as if to say, where did you come from?