Bramblepoint circinus

shhhhhh-aaaoww, the boy parrots, his eyes squinting as he tries to form the syllables. you have a funny name. and it was funny, with this being his first exposure to a foreigner not of the mountain or its sister-villages. did all strangers' names sound like this?
his eyes follow her paws and her teeth, watching hawk-like as she works the plant matter into... something. maybe she was a healer, like anânsiak, because why else would she be making funky plant crafts?
sure, he mumbles when the silence is broken by her question. he wasn't hungry, really, but he wanted to be polite. the warm, watchful eyes linger upon the bundle of weird looking ferns. what're we gunna eat?