Lion Head Mesa Empty rooms are honest places

The little figure moved into the room confidently and spoke again in his peculiar drawl. Crowfeather balked at him, eyelids fluttering in disbelief as he watched the unfamiliar shape move into the room and admire several portions of it. The shadow did not know what to make of the thing. There seemed to be no ill intent in his actions, no malice in his words – shocking that he could even speak at all.

It was not until the figure spoke again and offered a… name? Crowfeather nodded his head swiftly, knowing he would forget the little creature’s full moniker. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was given a shortened version. Gucci – the shadow gaped for a moment before he snapped his mouth shut with a small echoing clap and cleared his throat.

It’s nice to meet you, Gucci, he offered. Crowfeather dipped his snout, a show of faith and respect in the strange little man. He had said he’d spoken with Satsu. This was enough to ease the shadow’s frayed nerves, at least slightly.

I have a longer name too. We get them where I’m from. My dad named me From the Crow’s Wing, he said with a small smile. It faded as he felt his cheeks grow hot. Crowfeather was not sure why he had admitted such a thing to Gucci. Perhaps the many days in the sleeping quarters had made him lonely. Or maybe he was pleased to have discovered something familiar, no matter how small.