Whitefish River Just an old memory

The efforts put forth were met with efforts of her own, however minimal. But Aningan was patient—he let her take her time and find her footing, offering his body as support. And once ready, his own movements slowed to match her pace, helping her along. It was a slow task, steps mindful, as he led her towards shelter. And when the shelter was finally reached, he remained upright with her, shielded from the winds, so that he might catch her if she fell.

“You can rest here,” he told her, watching the female carefully. Could she understand him? Was she able to hear him? Concerned, Aningan waited until she made a move before settling down himself.