Blacktail Deer Plateau night is crawling through my eyes

bruh your post is straight up poetry

Another song sung, a summoning to those that called the plateau home. Aningan answered with a short call of his own, assuring the stranger she was heard—that someone was coming. And when he arrived before her, fur messed by the winds, he stood tall; his demeanour was amicable overall, posture relaxed and a welcoming smile gracing his lips.

“Salutitsinik,” he greeted after a moment of pause. “What brought you here?” Better, he thought; gradually, he was improving with how he spoke to strangers—but it remained a slow process.