Neverwinter Forest callorhinus

Unknowing to either of them, Fallen Sun had simply been raised without being exposed to spoken words, thus his lack of being able to pronounce them. His tongue wasn't accustomed to communication and his vocabulary was very limited. 

But he talked a lot within his own head. He wasn't dumb, just burdened with catching up on a language he didn't understand and wanted to so badly. The black she-wolf had a name, no? He'd come to know the tonal utterings that meant an introduction, but her name was incredibly complicated for his brain that was barely beginning to understand how to say his own name, and he had to think of another name for her. At least, until his dumb tongue could pronounce the fresh, hot syllable soup she'd introduced herself as. 

Fallen Sun wondered this. She was timid, and did not give him a loud or commanding air like the wolves he knew - and neither did she smell of any packscent that his nose had gotten a whiff of. From her movement, he guessed she wanted to hide away in the background of a dark forest, a stranger in a strange land; one who, like him, did not speak much of the words that floated around them in an ocean of unfamiliarity. She was moonlight over a starless sea, lost and lonely and out of place. An everdark, where the fallen sun never rose. And it is in this train of thought, he gave her a name. 

A restless soul, one that touched his shoulder in comfort. Did Evening Rose finally trust he wouldn't hurt her?