Wapun Meadow The water temple.

The giant seems disgruntled; had he been a more passive creature, perhaps that would have been enough to satiate his curiosity. Tulimaq wanted to know just how skilled this man was. He seemed so precise with his words. Thoughtful. Slow. But the strength within him was unmistakable and the explorer knew he had to see this through.

When the older wolf admits that they are not related, it doesn't surprise Tulimaq very much. The boy — Merrit, he had called him — did not have the same body-type, and truthfully did not look like a relative of this gargantuan thing. Tulimaq saw promise in the boy but it was, still, somewhat limited. I don't expect him to know right from wrong — I do from an adult, He carefully states, and Tulimaq nods.

I agree. And he thinks about that for a moment. The prospect of training the boy remains interesting to the Tartok wolf, and he remembers adding the requirement of permission. He does not find himself at fault, and dislikes the tone of warning within the words. You are not to go near him unless someone is with him.

Tulimaq can't help but sneer at this. He chuffs a small sound, holding in true laughter. You were there. I did not harm the boy — and he was not alone, which was the truth and the mountain knew it, he had been watching them. He has gone to ask his mother for permission to visit with me. I believe that settles things. This man was no father to the boy, and if the mother approves, what then?

The wolf turns away, growing bored — or seemingly distracted by something of greater importance off within the white-noise of the fog; then he murmurs, I mean only to teach him.