Stone Circle Heart Upon My Sleeve

sounds good. wrapping up here!

The attempts, although not perfect, were close; it was more than what Kove expected, the pronunciations of his homeland differing vastly from those of the southern lands. It was the interest and effort that he appreciated the most of all, truthfully—few of those born beyond the north ever showed much of an interest, after all.

When questioned further about the caribou, his expression turned thoughtful before he nodded. “Similar to a deer but larger,” he explained. “More dangerous to hunt, like elk or moose.” But it was oftentimes more than worth it, as to fell one meaning a feast for the pack. “If ever you choose to travel, perhaps you could visit the north and see them for yourself.”

Several more words were offered as the two continued along, related to hunting and animals in general; he spoke slowly, carefully—and kept the amount low, so as not to overwhelm him. But, before long, the day was starting to catch up with the elder and he found himself needing to retire to rest. He parted from his grandson with words of encouragement sent West’s way, assuring him that he would get a handle on the language in no time.