Stone Circle And I will sing a lullaby

When her features softened, his fear lifted. He looked back toward the pale beasts, hoping that in sparing their lives, he might in return receive some favour, in some other way. As a predator, it was likely not the best instinct to have, given the fact that he would need to eat, and he needed meat in order to sustain himself. But there was a majesty to the creatures that felt as though they ought to be considered sacred. 

"Tatanka," he said softly, appreciative that she was sharing her language with him. To her question, he responded "Buffall," He said, with a sheepish smile. It didn't deviate too much from the English word, save for how the end of the word was pronounced, where there was a slight roll of the back of his tongue. 

With something akin to regret, he looked toward the grazing beasts again, and nodded, though the gesture was uncertain. "In dream," He answered. He wasn't sure if what he'd seen were dreams or visions, or some side effect of the seizures he used to have- but more often than not, he'd envisioned white boars, white deer, and white bison. "And white boar...It mean...Mother, I think." He'd come to relate the two as his seizures had come and gone, as had the visions- as had his mother. He thought of her now, when he finally saw the pale grey herbivores moving quietly through their packlands. "Do....Not know what means....White buffall. White tatanka." Would it mean his father was going to come home? Or was it something else completely?