Whitebark Stream upon one summer's morning

kivaluk processes her words; albiet slowly. trying to find the compliment in the statement that he had prickily mistaken for being offensive. a soft hum vibrates within his throat; ears cupping forth atop his skull. she is. he affirms with a sage nod. she was natigvik. i assume it was more polite to use her name. he doesn't speak it to be criticising of her venacular, though it could easily be percieved of that. he offers it as a way of explaining why he reacted how he had.

i misunderstood. he adds after a quiet moment.

oh, kivaluk mumurs, left ear twitching. it was a bit humbling to find out that wolves were not the top of the food chain. so, stay away from cougars and bears. he draws in a breath and lets it out in a soft, contemplative sigh.