Dawnlark Plains I'll see what tomorrow brings

"Steeyor" she repeats, still unliking the name on her lips. A good thing she would perhaps not see him again after this. Names were difficult here. She was so used to her language that she did not consider others. The common tongue was not so common to her. "across ocean" Zola proclaims without vanity. She lashes her tail. "humans take me here. Dis new place. Cold."

She missed her Africa. "I not know how long I travel in Teekons" she went on with a sigh "only meet some wolves. Friendly, yes, but need tribe" She needed a new tribe to survive this land. She sniffed idly toward Stjor, once more thinking he had others with him but too polite to impose. She let it be. "know of tribes here, Steeyor?" She askes him.