Otatso Wetlands Moonjock

The youth was a gracious soul and offered a polite exchange, nodding his head and all. Malachai was the name he delivered, though it was a title devoid of any story or explanation. Curiosity nagged Tuwawi's mind, growing more interested in the swamp-boy, but she held her tongue in favor of more formal conversation. He was keen, and picked up on the valley's politics, asking who exactly Tuwawi pledged herself to. She offered a small grin, smitten to explain her grand design.

"Its complicated," she started, "my mate ad family still reside by the creek, but we plan to move North, soon. That is where I am coming back from. I have been scouting it all week." Her muzzle swung to point towards the mountain, though its location was masked by many miles of forest. "There is a good parcel of land that way. A mountain with a glacier... it is perfect for us." He attention turned back to Malachi, and she wondered if he would deign to follow them. "And what of you? I can't smell anything other than mud and cat tails," she laughed, approaching where he sat. "You just passing through?"