Stone Circle accipitridae

Though not as small as the young woman who approached, Anhinga had always been smaller than her cousins. Smaller and weaker, and therefore, oft overlooked. Not mistreated by any means, but passed over more often than not. Her stronger cousins had been taken on border patrols. Had met strange wolves from strange lands. Had learned the common language by necessity, while Anhinga had been at home, speaking only their familial tongue.

She hadn't thought of this impediment before setting off. It came to her immediately, however, once she was spoken to.

"Ah," she hedged, chagrined by her hesitation. She thought she'd understood the question, but she fumbled over how to answer. "Kvarsheim?" she repeated, just to buy herself some time. Still, nothing came to her. She tested out a single word: "Home? For — Me. I." No, "Me," she reaffirmed. Then, realizing her folly, she introduced herself: "Anhinga," she offered, pressing a paw to her chest. "And you?"

Her nose picked up another scent, then. She lifted her gaze, stilling as she noticed the man who had come to accompany the young woman. Her guard? Anhinga checked her posture, hoping they shared the same body language, at least, and that they would see her respect.