Greatwater Lake That's not my name

At first, he'd been unaware of what she was doing. He'd watched her stumble towards him, the close proximity—which he related to her growing more comfortable around him—pleasing him, but her actual intentions weren't caught on to right away. He'd been glad, distracted even, by her movements. When he did finally realize what she was doing, what she was looking for, he'd backed away a bit; he'd remained close enough to be followed. "I can't give you what you're after," he'd stated. Even when Xan had been far smaller than the girl currently was, he'd spoken to his children as he would an adult, treating them as if they could understand his every word. He wanted to believe that, in some way, he could be heard and understood, if only to better get across how much he cared. In this instance, however, he just wanted her to know that he wasn't able to offer up any milk.

Though the nutrient dense product could not be provided, he could offer to her barfed up regurgitated meats instead. Towards the lake he had glanced, then, only to look back to the child shortly after. After some careful deliberation, he'd stood and trotted over to the lake's edge, peering into it with the intention of locating a fish. Sadly, though, he was unable to find one, and was forced to return to the little girl without a meal having been prepared. Again, he'd lowered himself into a laying position next to her, pulling her closer to his chest in an attempt to take her mind off of her hunger. "Don't worry, I'll get you something once we're home," the man had said, feeling confident with his almost-promise. "For now, just rest your legs. We'll continue in a bit." A bit meaning however long it took for her to possibly doze off. Carrying a sleeping child was, by far, easier than trudging along with a conscious one.

In the meantime, he'd considered names for her. It had to have a meaning, that was for sure, and could relate to nothing of grim origins. No, he needed to think of brighter things, names that would lighten her mood each day she awoke when older. Anana, Buniq, Pukiq, Ublureak... Every name that drifted through his mind served as a reminder of the land that he'd been born into, but none seemed to really fit her. Their meanings were generous ones, and yet the names themselves just didn't match how she appeared to him. That is, until a final name puttered on by, one of which that stood out in front of all the others: "Qilaq." It seemed soft as it rolled from his tongue, the tones he'd used having been gentle ones. To her he'd then looked once more, smiling despite how tired he was, for he'd discovered who she was to be.