Deepwood Weald arctocephalus

It felt like a cosmic joke that he'd found himself in the company of such inarticulate wolves. Towhee was, of course, perfectly capable of carrying a conversation! But not with his back turned to her. And this woman would at least understand him, he thought, even if she did not make any response. It was something he would readily adjust to, but it was a little frustrating, in the mean time.

"It's about this forest," he said, setting off once more. "In this place, wolves may gather twice a year, on the equinoxes, to seek those that might be seeking them. Long lost relatives or estranged mates. Families separated by natural disaster. Wayward sons or displaced friends. Word is passed, and all who hear may gather between these trees to seek each other out."

His ear twisted back, and he was silent for a beat while he listened to be sure she was still behind him. Then he went on:

"You notice that we cannot see very far in this mist," he said, speaking more slowly now while he chose words he hoped would not frighten her. "But we found each other anyway. Those are the spirits that guide us to each other. The same spirits that bring families back together. I do not know if you and I were destined to meet, Sulukinak, but I am glad that we have."

He flashed a close-lipped smile over his shoulder, but soon turned back toward his path. He would not force her to respond to him right away.