Kintla Flatlands Manifest destiny

Aningan wasn’t entirely surprised by her answer, given how little of the language she seemed to understand when he used it. But it made him wonder about the different paths their lives apparently took, what separated them. He wanted to ask but couldn’t find the right way to pose the question, so he ended up dropping it instead; maybe it wasn’t his place to ask. Rather, he asked, “Do you want to know more of our language?” If he could be taught the common tongue, then surely she could learn his? Whether he would make for a good teacher or not was yet to be determined, however.

She had another question of his own, only this one was… weird. It made him tense up and his brows scrunch together, wondering if he should answer whilst also trying to think as far back as his memory would allow him to go. “I can’t remember,” he eventually replied. “I… think I met him before, a long time ago.” Memories from back then were hazy, at best, clouded over by time and the exaggerated views of a child’s mind. “I don’t know if I can meet him now,” he continued, glancing at his forefeet. “I can’t leave my home.” Even though he often found himself wishing to explore, to travel beyond the plateau to lands outside its sights, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to stay with his pack and do what he could for them, however much he could.