Jade Fern Grove all that remains of you is a crackle of your energy

Natjuk. it sounds Inuit if anything. though she could be wrong. "I am not familiar with the tongue" she admits quietly, having never studied the language before. there were not many who could be met in this area - should it even be Inuit - that had the capacity to teach. at least not well. surely there were fools roaming about that boasted their wit and intellect. there always was. he seemed reluctant to speak of it, the name and meaning, suggesting a perhaps darker past. 

he asks for her title next. she expected that. "Huntington" she replies, having her own equally dark past. both had strong-sounding pronunciations. Natjuk though. antler, however, for a meaning. it could symbolize strength and rebirth. as a buck shedding its antlers every season to regrow them, more durable than ever. she does not give meaning behind her name. it is one gifted to her by another. one long gone. she knows the origin of it; an illness resulting in the loss of function in the brain. 

and for her, that was a perfectly good waste of one. "I should hope the other gave an equally good bout?" a smirk crept upon her face, motioning to his healing wounds. she did not ask if he won. merely stating that perhaps it had been sporting. though she enjoyed a good underhanded show. she just did not think Natjuk would. he seemed a bit nobler than most others. strange. especially in this day and age.