Duck Lake Prelude I

"Bjarna." 

The word felt twisted upon his lip, his voice garbling it horribly. He felt the need to repeat it silently bjarna, bjarna, bjarna. He was never good with names- such things were fleeting in the life of constantly having to interact with newcomers was forced. But he wasn't home anymore, he was here. He could change if he wanted to. 

In time he realized the stranger was no longer one with little to say, but divided by a wall of language. Instantly he felt a little dumb at not picking up on it earlier and would smile, wagging his tail in an effort to be a little more expressive for her. Just as she did, he rose a paw to his chest. "Ikaros—It's Ikaros," he would reply sheepishly before returning to tentatively pick more meat from the bones.  

"You're a pack wolf- yes?" He would ask before wondering if she would understand such a sentance. "Err—Not a lone wolf?"