Swiftcurrent Creek Only hate the road when you're missing home.

She dismissed his apology, and Nefarious decided that now was a good time to let it go. If she wasn't willing to make a big deal out of it, than neither was he. The exotic woman's smile was warm, Nefarious noticed, and softly the edges of his own lips curled upwards to mirror her expression. It was with curiosity that Nefarious' left eyebrow raised slightly when she admitted that her name held no deep meaning, that it was nothing more than lore. The Shaman himself held a name of his native tongue, Inuit, that he did not speak of mostly because it was something that he naturally coveted, reserving it only for the closest of family. Initially, Suluk hadn't meant for the affectionate nickname of “Nefarious” and all of it's variations: Fari, Nefari, et cetera, to become something of an alias for the young Shaman to use in place of Anik. Perhaps it was the fear that someone would realize the meaning of his “true” name and take advantage of the fact that he was deeply connected to both Sos and Atka. Or perhaps, Nefarious was overly paranoid and too proud of his spiritual and voodoo based connections with the Great Bears. Even so, he presented an enigma instead of his actual name while keeping the truth close to his heart.

Nefarious was fascinated by the religions of others, or lore, or faith or whatever word it was that they liked to call their beliefs. He liked to collect them, as he collected bones for talismans. He wanted to be a cultured individual even if his belief remained rooted by steel in Atka and Sos. There was nothing that said just because the Shaman didn't share the belief that he couldn't be interested in it as far as “stories” went. He had no intentions of converting himself, though the idea had crossed his mind that perhaps he could gather some more followers of Atka and Sos during his time here. He was a Shaman, but there was nothing that said he couldn't also become a Priest, especially considering that he was, presumably, all alone in his faith here.

Nefarious had been silent for a small while, absorbing her words. “Dragons,” Nefarious repeated with a small smile. There was nothing that said dragons couldn't exist in his own mind. “It would be rad to see one,” He admitted softly, hoping that his interest didn't offend her. Ideally, her mother's naming process sounded way cooler than his family's own, despite that Suluk had been spot on when naming Nefarious himself. “Sounds much more interesting than my family's own naming process,” Nefarious admitted to her with a soft little snort. Not that he didn't like his name (either of them) because he did, but he had to admit it would have been awesome to claim he was named after a dragon. Instead all he had was a name that pegged him for what he was: a proclaimed prophet of sorts.

Which in comparison seemed mighty boring.